“I don’t remember signing this,” I whispered.
“What else is in there?”
Watson took the page. His hands started to shake.
“I remember a clipboard.”
I looked at him. “What?”
“At the hospital, sweetheart. Your mother handed it to me. She said you had already signed. She said they needed mine so Rowan wouldn’t suffer.”
My stomach turned.
“What?”
“Peggy said that?”
He nodded. “She said you couldn’t face it. She said I had to be strong enough for both of us.”
I stood so fast the box nearly fell.
***
For eighteen years, I’d remembered pieces of that hospital night.
Doctor Jefferson walking toward us.
My mother wrapping her arms around me.
“She said you couldn’t face it.”
Someone saying, “He’s gone, Dawn.”
