“Stupid, stubborn pride,” Arthur confessed in misery. “I had told her years before never to come back home. I just couldn’t bring myself to take back my harsh words.”
“They were killed on that highway forty minutes later,” I said, staring at him in complete disbelief.
“If I had simply opened that door, they would both still be alive today,” Arthur sobbed quietly.
“So that is what you can never forgive yourself for,” I realized aloud.
He turned his head away toward the wall, unable to look at me.
“Is that why you missed their funeral?” I asked softly.
“I couldn’t face you,” Arthur sobbed. “And I couldn’t face her grave knowing what I had done.”
“And what about Harper?” I asked him directly. “What about your innocent granddaughter?”
His sharp jaw tightened in pain.
“You knew about her existence all this time?” I asked.
“I always knew exactly where you lived,” Arthur admitted softly.
