“Maybe they finally realized how special she is.”
That explanation sounded beautiful.
It also sounded incomplete.
A week later, I discovered how incomplete.
Claire’s room was crowded again.
They were laughing over some ridiculous video.
I stepped into the hallway to give them space.
A moment later, Rocky followed me.
I smiled despite myself.
“Thank you.”
He stopped.
“For what?”
“Coming every day.”
His face changed.
He looked pale.
Then he asked:
“Do you really have no idea what Claire did?”
My smile disappeared.
“What do you mean?”
He looked toward her room.
Then back at me.
“Are you pretending?”
“Rocky.”
His eyes filled with tears.
I had never seen him cry.
Not even when his parents forced him to apologize for bullying Claire.
“Aren’t you all here to cheer her up?”
He swallowed.
“Yes.”
“Then what are you talking about?”
He pulled out his phone.
“We promised we wouldn’t tell.”
“Tell what?”
“Claire made us promise.”
“Why?”
Rocky looked at the screen.
“Because she said if adults found out, everyone would turn it into a huge thing.”
That sounded exactly like my daughter.
“What happened?”
He unlocked the phone.
“Watch.”
He pressed play.
The video had been filmed vertically.
Shaky.
Dark.
