“Did James ever change his mind?”
His eyes dropped.
That was answer enough.
“Adrian.”
He said nothing.
“Did James ever tell you not to lie?”
Finally, he whispered,
“Yes.”
My chest tightened.
“When?”
“Near the end.”
“What exactly did he say?”
Adrian looked as though the fifty-six years he had carried suddenly settled onto his shoulders all at once.
“He said, ‘Tell her I was here.’”
My breath caught.
“He told me not to let you believe he simply vanished. He wanted you to know he survived the attack.”
Adrian
