Two weeks later, Sophie and I drove to the coast for the weekend.
We stayed in a small motel with a view of the water, and we ate fried clams on the pier, and we walked on the beach until our feet were cold. She talked about transferring to a different school next year. I told her she didn't have to. She said she knew, but she wanted to.
"I keep thinking about what would have happened if you hadn't found the register log," she said. "I would have dropped out."
"You don't know that."
"I do." She looked at me. "I was already looking at the withdrawal form online. I had it open on my laptop."
I did not tell her that I had seen her do that before. I did not tell her that the last time, she had filled it out and sent it in, and that it had taken her three years to come back. I did not tell
