His eyes glint with childish delight.

I bend to his ear and whisper, “I get really nervous, and it’s not as easy as it looks.”

Noah nods, his face sobering. “I’d be nervous, too, but Daddy said you’re the smartest girl he ever met.”

I zip a glance at Ezra, who looks self-conscious for a moment before meeting my eyes. “Still not smarter than me, though,” he deadpans defiantly. “And don’t you forget it.”

I thought there was no way to laugh, not on the day I buried my father, but a chuckle rattles in my throat. “You’re just mad because I beat you at chess.”

“You beat Daddy at chess?” Noah’s eyes stretch to full moons. “Nobody ever beats him.”

“Once,” Ezra interjects with a heatless glare. “She beat me once.”

“Now the excuses start,” I tell Noah.

Ezra smiles, but his gaze flits back to where his wife stands and the brief flash of humor disappears. “We better go, Noah. Let’s see what your mom needs.”

Noah takes off, dashing from the tent and across the grass to his mother. When he reaches her, she pulls him into the crook of her arm and kisses the top of his head. What a beautiful family. I’m happy for him.

Ezra turns his attention back to me. “I just wanted to say how sorry I am. Pay my respects.”

A dozen words idle on my tongue at the prospect of him disappearing again.

Don’t be a stranger. Let me get your number. We should stay in touch.

He looks down at me, and the words lodged in my throat seem to burn in his eyes, too, fueled by regret. And hope. All the things clamoring in my chest play across his expressive features.

“Kimba, we could—”

“It was good seeing you again,” I cut in with soft politeness, dropping the hand I didn’t realize I still held until now. “Thank you for coming.”

He stares at me for long seconds, and despite my best intentions, I stare back. When I was a little girl, no one was closer to me, no one knew me better than Ezra Stern. It was the kind of closeness you cherished as a child—the kind that between two adults could be nothing short of intimate.

“Goodbye, Ez,” I whisper, blinking at fresh tears.

“Yeah.” He looks out across green grass and headstones to where his family waits, and nods. “Goodbye, Tru.”

Long, swift strides take him to his wife and son. They disappear over the crest of a hill, hand in hand and then out of sight. They were here only a few minutes. I doubt Mama even realized he was here. She’s still trapped in her worst nightmare where the love of her life is gone.