Chapter 15
Agatha apologized when Elliot was seven.
His choice.
He asked after seeing her at a cousin’s birthday.
“She still sad?”
Sometimes.
“About me?”
Partly.
He thought.
“Okay. She can talk.”
We met outside.
Different garden.
No stone column.
Agatha sat first.
Elliot remained standing.
Interesting.
She said:
“I took your water.”
He nodded.
“I chained you.”
Another nod.
“I told you your heart was weak because of your mother.”
His face changed.
That one remained.
Agatha’s voice broke.
“I lied.”
Elliot stared.
“Why?”
She answered:
“Because I didn’t like how your mother raised you.”
“She dead.”
“Yes.”
“You were mean to dead Mama?”
Agatha closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
No excuse.
Good.
Then:
“I thought making you uncomfortable would make you strong.”
Elliot looked at me.
Then back at her.
“It made me thirsty.”
I almost laughed.
Agatha did.
Through tears.
“Yes.”
Then he said:
“I don’t like chain.”
“I know.”
“Don’t do kids.”
“I won’t.”
That was his condition.
Not forgive me.
Not hug me.
Stop.
Agatha nodded.
“I won’t.”
Elliot considered.
Then asked about turtles.
Again.
Apparently turtles were diplomacy.
The visit lasted forty minutes.
He let her walk beside him to the pond.
No hand holding.
Fine.
Agatha looked at me once.
I nodded.
May you like
Nothing more.
Trust returns at child speed.
