Chapter 18 - Thomas Learns to Wait
Thomas rented an apartment nearby.
He never appeared without calling.
Never demanded weekends.
Never asked me to call him Dad.
We met in public places.
At first, our conversations lasted twenty minutes.
Then an hour.
He told me about Emma before the conspiracy.
She loved terrible coffee and old mystery novels.
She hated military ceremonies.
She laughed when nervous.
Some of those things sounded like me.
Others did not.
He gave me information without trying to build ownership from it.
That mattered.
One afternoon, I asked why he stayed hidden so long.
“Fear,” he said.
“That sounds like Diane.”
“Yes.”
“You think you were better than her?”
“No.”
The answer surprised me.
“I thought gathering enough evidence would make up for leaving people alone.”
“Did it?”
“No.”
I respected him more after that.
Adults rarely admitted the difference between a reason and an excuse.
By fourteen, I called him Thomas without anger.
May you like
Dad remained Dad.
There was room for both truths.
