The danger did not last forever.
But it lasted long enough to make fear feel like a permanent part of Jesse’s body.
Then time did something cruel.
It made silence feel impossible to break.
“I told myself I would call after the trial,” Jesse said. “Then after the appeal. Then after Vale died. Then after I got married. Then after Levi was born. Every year, I had a reason. But after a while, the real reason was not danger anymore.”
“What was it?” I asked.
His eyes filled again.
“Shame.”
The word sat between us.
“I wrote letters,” he said. “Dozens of them. I never mailed them. I called the house once when I was twenty-four. Mom answered, and I hung up because I heard her voice and lost my nerve.”
