Chapter 12
Sabine wrote Theo a letter six months later.
She sent it to me.
Not him.
Good.
I read it.
Short.
I kept you awake because I was scared you remembered seeing something I wanted hidden.
That was wrong.
You were not bad.
You did not cause it.
I am sorry.
Specific.
No excuse.
No “I loved you.”
No request for forgiveness.
Better than I expected.
I asked Theo if he wanted to hear a message from Sabine.
He frowned.
“What message?”
“Sorry.”
He thought.
“No.”
That was it.
I put the letter away.
Not destroyed.
Not delivered.
His no mattered.
At four, maybe he would want it.
At ten.
Never.
Her apology existed without requiring reception.
That was consequence.
Months later he asked where Sabine lived.
“Another city.”
“Why?”
“Because she hurt you and we weren’t getting married anymore.”
He nodded.
Then:
“Did she hurt you?”
Interesting.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“She lied to me.”
He looked serious.
“Bad.”
“Yes.”
May you like
Then he returned to toy trains.
Children often understand moral categories before adults decorate them with rationalization.
