“Did he die instead of me?” He choked on the words, and I wrapped my arms around him, feeling the sharp angles of his ribs under my hands.

“No, sweetie, no. Daddy’s a hero. He was the good guy and he will always be the good guy. And he would never have gone away if he had a choice. You were the most important thing in the world to him.”

Josh pulled away and lay down, facing away from me. He stared at the door as he cried, fat, silent tears streaking his wan cheeks. I stroked a hand gently over his smooth skull.

“I know you’re sad. I’m sad too.”

He didn’t reply, so I kept going. “You know in Star Wars, how Obi-Wan sacrificed himself so that Luke and the others could get away?”

Silence.

“Well, that’s like what Daddy did. But even though he’s gone, just like Obi-Wan, he’s always there, living inside the people who loved him.”

More silence, and then a raspy whisper. “Daddy was the good guy. Why did the bad guy win? Daddy said the good guys always win.”

AFTER JOSH was asleep, I slipped outside to have a cigarette.

The temperature had dropped dramatically. Flakes of white drifted to the ground. I huddled behind a copse of evergreens next to the hospital parking lot and lit a cigarette with shaky hands.

Josh’s words echoed in my head. The good guys always win.

No, I wanted to scream, the good guy doesn’t always win. The truth hovered over me like a shadow, blocking out any light. I wasn’t the good guy. I didn’t deserve to be the one who lived, and as he got older, Josh would realize that. He would wish Nate had lived instead of me.

I wished it now.

I inhaled, letting the smoke warm me from the inside. It caressed my skin, curling into my hair, my eyelashes. Through the veil of the evergreen boughs, I saw a flash of movement and heard the angry lilt of voices.

I peered through the trees and recognized the crisp navy suit and bright white hair of Dr. Palmer. He was tucked behind the corner of the staff entrance. His back was to me, but when he shifted his feet I could just make out over his shoulder the person he was arguing with.

Ben.

I wanted to move closer so I could hear better, but I didn’t want them to know I was here. They argued for another minute while I strained to listen. Snatches of words floated to me as snowflakes speckled my hair and melted on my hands.

“… drugs… she… forget… know…”

Finally Ben stepped away from Dr. Palmer. His face was red, his eyebrows drawn tight with anger.

“… what really happened that night,” Ben said.

It made no sense. I was there that night; I knew exactly what had happened to Nate.