Luis answered before anyone else. “Every day.”
“Even when he got really sick?”
“Especially then.”
Millie reached over and took Letty’s hand.
For the first time since the funeral, grief no longer felt like a sealed room. It felt like a door opening.
I stood and wiped my face.
“All right,” I said. “We are not turning Letty into a school mascot for kindness.”
Then I turned to Mr. Brennan. “But this school is going to do more than cry in an office for ten minutes and move on. Millie is in remission, not untouched. Those boys need consequences, and every child here needs to learn what happened to her matters.”
He straightened his posture. “Their parents are already on the way, and the boys are suspended from activities until we finish the review. And we’ll start something bigger.”
I nodded. “Good.”
I looked back at Jenna. “And if you’re comfortable, the fund stays in Jonathan’s name.”
She pressed the tissue to her mouth and nodded. “I’d be honored.”
Letty stared at me. “You sound like Daddy.”
The words struck me squarely in the ribs.
Out in the hallway, I opened Jonathan’s envelope.
“Piper,
If you’re reading this, one of the guys kept a promise for me.
I know you. By now you’ve carried too much and told everybody you’re fine.
You were the brave one long before I got sick.
If Letty ever does something that breaks your heart open in the good way, don’t close it again out of fear.
Let people love you.
— Jon”
I folded the letter and held it against my chest.
Outside the school, the air felt sharp and clean. Jenna was standing by the curb with Millie, one hand resting between her daughter’s shoulders as if she was afraid to stop touching her.
I went over first.
“Dinner tonight,” I said.
Jenna blinked. “What?”
“You’re coming over.” I looked at Millie. “No arguments. I know every trick for feeding somebody who says they’re not hungry. I got very good at it.”
Jenna’s eyes filled again. “Piper…”
“I’m serious.”
Millie looked at Letty. “Can I have dinner at your house too?”
Letty gave her a small smile. “Only if you don’t hide in the bathroom anymore.”
Millie smiled back. “Only if you stop cutting your own hair without supervision.”
“That’s fair.”
Jenna laughed through her tears, and something inside all four of us loosened.
On the ride home, Letty kept Jonathan’s hard hat in her lap. “Do you think Dad would’ve cried today?”
I smiled through another wave of tears. “Absolutely. Then he would’ve lied about it.”
Jonathan had not come back to us. But somehow, because of our daughter, his love still had.
