Seventeen
Chase’s hands are clasped tightly together in his lap when he finishes. I wonder if he’s ever told this story in its entirety to anyone else. It must be draining to relive it all. The pain and the suffering and the guilt. When we’ve sat in silence for a while, he raises his eyes and whispers, “Please say something.”
Say something? There are so many ‘somethings’ running through my head, it’s hard to know where to begin. “Um … thank you?”
He gives me a half-smile. “I suppose there are far worse things you could say.”
“It’s just … a lot to think about.”
“I know. I’ve never told anyone all of it. Not in detail like that. Most of the time I just get on with life. I protect whoever needs to be protected and then move onto the next project or mission without allowing myself any dis
