“I’m not questioning whether she loved you.”
“Then what are you doing?”
He stood slowly.
“Showing you something Emma wanted you to see.”
Arthur walked to a cabinet and returned with an old photo album.
He placed it on the table.
“Then what are you doing?”
“Open it.”
I opened the album.
The first image showed a little girl standing beside a yellow bicycle.
She wore white shoes and had a gap between her front teeth.
It was me!
I picked up the album with shaky hands.
“Where… where did you get this?”
It was me!
Arthur’s voice trembled.
“I took that picture.”
He turned another page.
There I was again, sitting on a man’s shoulders at a summer fair!
The man’s face was partly hidden by my arms.
But I remembered the day.
“I took that picture.”
I’d begged my father to carry me because my feet hurt.
