PART 3   I stared at the hospital bracelet in the lunchbox until the letters of my own name blurred.

carpentry.

Then, one evening, as I sat beside him in his apartment, he said, “I need to ask you something.”

“What?”

“When people ask about me after I’m gone, don’t make me better than I was.”

My throat tightened.

“Walter—”

“No,” he said gently. “Promise.”

I swallowed.

“Okay.”

“Tell them I failed. Tell them I hid. Tell them Grace was braver than me.”

I nodded,continue reading …