“Jay was different, you know? He was always drawn to unexpected bursts of light. He’d dance with the water lily and make it bloom. He didn’t come from the swamp . . . he could see right through the murk.” He sighs, sinking deeper into the sofa. “He could have been the best of us . . . he should have been. The swamp flowed through his veins, too, you know. But it’s not right. He didn’t sign up for any of it. Wanderlust shouldn’t hurt anyone. It’s a gift.”
