Even if I could whisper the identity of my killer into Emily’s ear, letting her believe that it came to her in a dream, I would not do so. I keep my silence not out of any complicity with my attacker, but because I refuse to devote even that much energy toward him. It no longer matters. Nothing of that kind matters any longer. But I know it matters to Emily. For her, it’s all that matters now. She will not rest until my murder is avenged. In the end, if I could whisper anything to her, it would be to let go of that pursuit. To honor my life by being happy. And I’d tell her that my greatest
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