Now I was sitting across from an eighteen-year-old girl who was alive because Bryce had decided that, if his own future was being taken from him, he wanted someone else to have one.
Sadie slowly reached for my hand.
“Would you like to hear it?”
I knew what she meant.
I nodded.
She guided my hand toward her chest.
At first, I felt nothing because my own fingers were trembling too much.
Then I felt it.
A heartbeat.
Steady.
Strong.
I closed my eyes.
It wasn’t Bryce coming back to me. I knew that.
But for the first time since I had buried my son, the world did not feel completely empty either.
And as I sat there with my hand over the heart he had chosen to leave behind, I finally understood why Bryce had made me search for the truth instead of simply writing it down.
He wanted me to know what Trevor had done.
But he also wanted me to see what he had chosen to do differently.
