“Is it weird to see me after such a long time?” I ask. He looks down at me from his bunk. “I guess it was at first,” he says. “I thought maybe, you know, you might be different or something. But you’re the same old Nic.” I let that sink in. Maybe, I think to myself, underneath it all, I am not this awful person, but a caring, loving little boy. Maybe that has never left me, even after everything.
