made them more profound—made it more sacred and painful that he would cry them in front of me. This was the grief of a man at the funeral for his entire family. My arms wound around him, not fitting as easily as they used to, and I cried, too. “I’m sorry,” I said again and again. I apologized for everything in those two words. That we’d ever found this place. That we’d chosen it. That I’d been the one to take his sister. That I’d brought her back here and hurt him again.
nice
