Then he placed three white roses on the ground.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
I approached him.
“For what, sweetheart?”
“For surviving.”
My heart broke.
I turned him gently toward me.
“Benjamin, listen to me.”
His eyes were wet.
“You were a child.
You didn’t choose what happened.”
“But Dad and the boys—”
“Your father loved you.
Nathan loved you.
Oliver loved you.”
My voice shook.
“And if they could see you now, they would be grateful you’re alive.”
He began crying.
I held him beneath the trees.
For a long time, neither of us spoke.
Then Sophie joined us.
Then Hannah.
Then Rachel, Madeline, and Claire.
Seven of us stood together where four members of our family had been stolen from us.
We cried.
We remembered.
We told stories.
Hannah recalled Nathan teaching her to drive.
Rachel remembered Oliver explaining the stars.
Madeline told us how Benjamin once convinced everyone that a raccoon had stolen her birthday cake.
