of what had actually happened, offered without excuse attached to it.
Epilogue: What I Carry Forward Now
Later that same week, I visited Warrick’s grave alone. I brought a small handful of apple blossoms with me, not as any grand sentimental gesture, but simply because it felt like the right thing, the fitting thing, given everything.
We’d lived side by side for nearly my entire life, sharing a fence line and a quiet, ordinary neighborly rhythm, without either of us ever once speaking the actual truth sitting underneath all of
