“And you?” Daniel asked.

“Same.”

“Me too,” Daniel said. “This house is all I have left of her. I’m not abandoning it.”

Koji cleared his throat and walked into the kitchen.

As he expected, it was Nori who spoke first. “What are you doing out of bed?”

“Feeling fine,” he said. “Time to get going again, yeah, before these bones get too stiff to move anymore.”

Nori watched him for a moment. “What were you thinking?” she asked sternly. To his great surprise, she didn’t say anything else about it. “At least sit down and eat some breakfast,” she then said, glancing at Daniel as if they shared some secret.

After they’d eaten and Nori returned to the market, Koji looked across the table at Daniel and said, “Be nice to get some fresh air, eh. Let’s go for a ride.”

Daniel smiled. “You do remember what happened the last time we went for a ride,” he reminded him.

* * *

Koji leaned back in the passenger seat, happy to be outside for the first time in days as Daniel backed the truck out of the driveway and drove toward town. When they reached downtown, Koji turned to him and said, “Let’s go to Onekahakaha Beach.”

Onekahakaha Beach was four miles down the coastal road from Hilo. He, Razor, and Franklin used to walk the distance from the train station to the beach and back as if it were nothing. Koji hadn’t been back to the beach since Mariko died. He paid close attention to the coastal road, lined with waving palm trees, a sprinkling of sand rising in the wind and dancing along the blacktop. Everything appeared to come alive. He felt different, too, as if the numbness in him were finally beginning to thaw. He looked for the words to explain what he was feeling, but it was Daniel who spoke first.

“I made a mistake,” Daniel said. His voice rose above the rumbling of the truck. “A little girl will never be the same because of me.”

Koji glanced over to see Daniel’s hands, white-knuckled on the steering wheel. He saw the boy again first learning to drive, who always tried so hard to get everything right. He knew now what had brought him home from Chicago.

“Life doesn’t always work out the way we want it to, yeah,” Koji finally said.

Daniel remained silent. Koji didn’t know what else to say. If only he could heal his own wounds so easily.

“Tell me, would you have done anything different?” Koji asked. It was something he’d asked himself over and over since Razor’s death.

Daniel licked his lips, deep in thought. Koji imagined him reliving every step, every decision he’d made concerning the little girl. Minutes passed. “No,” he finally said. “Given the circumstances, no.” He said it softly, shaking his head as if to convince himself.