“Donation was my choice.”
Nobody spoke.
“Don’t make Sally prove she loved me by agreeing with you.”
Violet covered her mouth.
“And don’t put Cecelia in the middle. She isn’t something I left behind. She’s Sally’s daughter and mine, and she gets to become herself.”
“Turn it off,” Violet whispered.
Nobody spoke.
I did.
Then I looked at her.
“I want Cecelia to know you.”
Violet started crying.
“But you will never tell her I made her father do this. And you’ll never make her responsible for how much you miss him.”
“I don’t know who I am without him.”
Violet started crying.
“Neither do I, Violet. This is harder than anything I’ve ever had to do.”
I looked down at Cecelia.
“But she doesn’t need us to know yet.”
***
Six months later, Violet sat on my living-room rug while Cecelia fought with a wooden block.
