He left the building, his briefcase swinging lightly at his side. It was now nearly empty. He looked at it for a moment, remembering the day he’d bought it. He’d selected it because he could picture himself walking into a classroom with it, setting it on a desk, and opening it in front of a group of eager students. It was very much like the one Paul had carried.

He found a trash can and stuffed the briefcase into its open mouth, where a Carl’s Jr. cup tipped over and spilled cola across the caramel-colored leather. Then he walked to his car and drove out of the parking lot. When, at a stoplight, he looked in the rearview mirror, he saw only the face of the driver behind him.

He felt suddenly free, like a kite after its string has slipped from the fingers of the one controlling it. His heart soared up into the blue sky, riding the wind alongside the gulls who dipped and turned with practiced ease. He was no longer an earthbound creature, held down by the burden he’d carried for too long. He was free to do as he liked.

And what he wanted to do, he realized, was to see Ben. Last night had not been enough for him. He wanted more. He couldn’t say that he loved Ben; he didn’t know that yet, and might not for a long time. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to, or that Ben wanted him to. But he wanted to be with him, to feel him in his arms and see what might happen between them now that he had laid Paul to rest.

Part of him felt that he shouldn’t be so happy. He had, after all, just handed over his life’s dream to someone else. No, he reminded himself, you handed over Paul’s life’s dream. He had broken his promise, he thought, his joy fading somewhat.

Then he thought of Eleanor Mintz, alone in her house with her ghosts. She had made them promises as well, and keeping them had turned her into a living ghost, hollow and haunted, forced to believe in something that was never true. He would not become her. As much as he had loved Paul, he was not beholden to him. His promise had been made not to fulfill Paul’s dream but to keep him from leaving Hudson completely.

But now he was gone, released into whatever place his spirit resided. Hudson hoped that he’d gone without rancor, that he understood why Hudson had needed to do what he’d done. And if he didn’t, then he hoped he would be forgiven.