I looked at Elias.
He had gone pale.
“Today it’s only something that happened.”
The boy considered.
“Dad says memories change when you tell them.”
“Who’s your dad?”
He pointed to Mark, the dangerous sailor.
“Is he a doctor?”
“History teacher.”
“That explains it.”
Mark laughed.
Theo remained unsmiling.
“Are you going to tell it?”
The question might have angered me from an adult.
From him, it felt honest.
“Not all of it.”
He nodded as if that were acceptable and went to join the other children.
Elias stared at his glass.
“You remembered yesterday?”
“Yes.”
His hands tightened around his knees.
Miriam sat beside him.
“You don’t need to hear this now,” I said.
“I do.”
“Why?”
“Because you lived it.”
“That does not make you entitled to punish yourself with it.”
His gaze lifted.
The yard had grown quieter.
Not silent.
