Melinda paused.
For one fragile second, she and I stood facing each other with Elliot between us.
“I’ll send everything,” she whispered.
I nodded.
“And Kirsten?”
I waited.
“He laughs like you.”
The sentence struck me in a place no legal filing could reach.
Melinda’s eyes filled again.
“I didn’t understand why at first,” she said. “He has this little half laugh, like he’s trying not to smile too much. Connor said I was imagining it.”
I could not speak.
The elevator doors began to close.
Connor reached out impatiently and pressed the button.
Melinda stepped inside.
Elliot looked over her shoulder at me, wide-eyed and solemn, his stuffed giraffe tucked under one arm.
Then the doors shut.
I stood there long after they were gone.
