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

tears slipping down my face.

“But also tell them you came back,” I said.

He smiled faintly.

“If you think that part matters.”

“It matters.”

He reached for my hand.

His palm was rough, warm, familiar now.

“I loved you from the first eight minutes,” he whispered.

I cried then.

Because I knew exactly what he meant.

Walter held me once as a baby for eight minutes.continue reading …