She had to stop and gather herself. “I saw that you had them in,” she said, lifting the case of the AirPods. “And I ran to you and tried to take them, but…” A single tear dripped from her left eye, ran down her cheek, traced her jawline, but didn’t fall. “But then you spoke in my sister’s voice,” she said, barely audible. “What?” “You opened your mouth and spoke but it was my sister’s voice,” she said, louder now, firm and undeniable. “You said ‘He’ll need to hear it now. Don’t try to stop him. It’s too late for that.’ ” “Don’t try to stop him,” I echoed.
