Chapter 16
On the fifth anniversary of Sofia’s death, Livia and I went to Vermont.
Same mountain road.
Same house.
I had avoided staying there overnight since the accident.
This time we did.
No security convoy visible.
Rafe nearby, because I was not cured of sense.
Livia asked about her mother.
More now.
She was old enough to know Sofia died in a car crash.
Not old enough for the Second Table.
That could wait.
“Was Mommy scared?”
The question stopped me.
Sometimes.
I answered honestly.
“Sometimes.”
“Of car?”
“No.”
“Of bad people?”
“Sometimes.”
She thought.
“Were you there?”
“No.”
That answer still hurt.
Then she asked:
“Did you save her?”
Children ask impossible questions without knowing.
“No.”
She looked at me.
“Why?”
“Because I couldn’t.”
Silence.
Then she hugged me.
Not forgiveness.
She had nothing to forgive.
Just love without solving.
We drove the road the next morning.
Slowly.
No black SUV.
No hidden meaning.
Ice had melted.
Mountains looked ordinary.
I realized how much of my grief had been turned into a mystery by discovering the Table.
But Sofia still died because roads become dangerous in freezing rain.
Not every tragedy has a mastermind.
Accepting that again felt strangely merciful.
The conspiracy explained fear.
May you like
It did not need to explain everything.
That distinction saved me from turning her death into another family weapon.
