Chapter 13 - THE LETTERS FROM THE QUIET MAN
Alejandro wrote to Emma once a year.
Mariana and a child therapist reviewed every letter.
The first draft compared Emma to Kiara.
Mariana returned it.
Emma was not responsible for filling the space left by a dead child.
Alejandro changed his language.
Dear Emma,
I hope you have two EpiPens.
I am learning that surviving and living honestly are not the same thing.
Thank you for giving me time to learn.
You do not have to write back.
Emma did not answer until she was eleven.
I have two.
Sometimes three.
Do people bother you in prison?
Alejandro replied.
Sometimes.
The guards have rules.
I am learning to ask for help instead of believing fear solves everything.
Emma asked about Kiara.
Alejandro described yellow rain boots, strawberry ice cream, and a habit of hiding crayons beneath sofa cushions.
He did not describe the car.
He did not place his grief into Emma’s hands.
At fourteen, Emma learned the truth about David.
She read his confession beside Mariana.
“My dad helped bad people.”
“Yes.”
“Did you know?”
“No.”
“Do you still love him?”
“Yes.”
“Is that allowed?”
“Love is not a verdict.”
“We can love someone and still tell the truth about what they did.”
Emma placed David’s letter inside the repaired rabbit backpack.
She did not call him innocent.
She did not allow his worst choices to become his only identity.
The same complexity shaped her letters to Alejandro.
She did not forgive his crimes.
May you like
She appreciated his honesty.
Both positions existed without canceling each other.
