whispered,
“There’s something else.”
I waited.
“I know where James is buried.”
The world stopped.
“What?”
“I know where he’s buried.”
“How long have you known?”
He hesitated.
That hesitation told me everything.
“How long?”
“Years.”
Anger rose through me again.
“Years?”
“Records eventually became available. His remains were identified and repatriated.”
“And you didn’t tell me.”
“By then, telling you where he was meant explaining everything else.”
I stared at him.
“For fifty-six years, I had no grave.”
Adrian said nothing.
“No place to bring flowers. No place to
