Chapter 9 - Lily Asks About the Boy
Lily was eight when she asked about Arthur.
She remembered the photograph.
Not the exact birthday attack.
Trauma reshapes childhood memories strangely.
She knew Grandpa had hurt her.
Knew Grandma helped hide things.
Knew both went away because adults made serious choices.
But one afternoon she found Arthur’s picture in my study.
“Is this the boy?”
I stopped.
“Yes.”
“The one I saw at Grandma’s?”
“Yes.”
“Who is he?”
“My brother.”
Her eyes widened.
“You had another brother?”
“Yes.”
“Where is he?”
“He died before you were born.”
She studied the photograph.
Then:
“Did Grandpa hurt him too?”
“Yes.”
I did not lie.
“Did you help?”
“I was little.”
“Oh.”
She thought.
“Did Grandma?”
That question was harder.
“She should have.”
Lily nodded.
Then touched the photograph.
“Did he know you loved him?”
I almost broke.
“I hope so.”
Later I found one of Arthur’s letters.
The one where he wrote:
When I grow up, I’m going to come get Rebecca.
I showed Lily.
She smiled sadly.
“He loved you.”
“Yes.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he kept trying to reach me.”
Lily put the letter down.
“Then he knew.”
Children sometimes arrive at mercy before adults.
May you like
I chose to believe her.
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