He put the pen down and she knew it was done.
She'd been on the other end of the couch reading — actually reading, past page twelve for once, which had become possible now in a way it hadn't been for two years — when he made the specific movement of a person who had finished something and was setting down what they'd used to finish it.
She looked at him.
He held the book.
"The last entry," he said.
She held her place in the page.
"Read it," she said.
He read it.
*Entry, final: Davan walked across the bridge tonight. Both hands held — Nara's and mine. She stopped in the middle. Looked at both sides. Said: bridge. Then kept walking. She pulled us with her. She didn't look back.*
*The record of this period is complete. Not the record of her — she's two years old and the record of her
