“Paul…” I scrape my hand from my eyes to my mouth, and my chest collapses. I don’t want to diminish the magnitude of what he did for Farrow, who’s practically the reason Donnelly is living and breathing—though Farrow will never say this to anyone. I hear him sniff, choked too. “Don’t call me that, man. The name’s Donnelly.” His voice is trying to lighten.
