Neither of us spoke. We both knew there was no going back.
When I was eighteen, the Pembroke family had just brought me home. Dashiell walked with me from our mountain hometown to the county bus station.
Before I boarded the bus, he pressed a stack of cash into my hands. It was every penny he had ever saved. Even the one-cent bills had been carefully tucked between the larger notes.
His eyes were red as he looked at me without blinking. He held my hand tightly, as though trying to keep me from leaving. Yet the moment I told him I had to go, he slowly let go.
Eighteen-year-old Dashiell looked at me and said, "Eulalie, I will come find you... Wherever you are... that's where I'll be."
After that, he gave up his dream university just to move to the city where the Pembrokes' lived.
He ev
