“Handled what differently?” I asked.
“This. Them. Mason finding out like that.”
“I didn’t tell Mason anything.”
“You brought the boys here knowing we’d be here.”
I stared at him.
“Daniel, this is a statewide academic competition. Their qualification scores brought them here. Not you.”
His cheeks darkened.
“You know what I mean.”
“No. I really don’t.”
His voice rose just enough that a couple walking past us glanced over.
“You’ve had thirteen years to make me the villain to them.”
That was the moment he lost whatever small chance he had of making the conversation about repair.
I didn’t answer.
I didn’t need to.
Owen did.
“Mom didn’t make you anything.”
Daniel looked at him.
Owen’s hands were resting at his sides, his new medal catching the overhead light.
“She never told us to hate you,” he continued. “She actually used to say we’d understand more when we were older.”
Daniel’s face softened with sudden hope.
It lasted only a second.
“We got older,” Owen said. “We understood that you weren’t there.”
Daniel looked as though the floor had shifted beneath him.
Eli spoke next.
“We knew your name. We knew where you lived. Mom never hid you from us. There just wasn’t much else to know.”
No one said anything after that.
A few minutes later, an announcement called finalists back into the auditorium for the closing team challenge.
The boys turned toward the doors.
Daniel stepped forward.
