23
T
he next afternoon, Javier dropped me off at Shady Run. This time, he didn’t offer to stay.
I sat down at Charlotte’s feet, joining the circle of children before her. She was reading Horton Hears a Who! to the kids, and as she read, she pulled her fingers through my hair as my head rested on her knee.
After a few pages, she set the book face down and open across her lap. “There’s a lot of truth out there now, Mary,” she said quietly, “and a lot of work can be done with truth.”
I let out a long exhale. “Is it enough, though?” I gazed at the twelve sweet faces watching me.
“It’ll have to be.” She began reading again. I could see the curve of a smile on her face when I looked up at her.
Henrietta climbed into my lap, her thin legs sprawled out across the floor in front of us. I wra
