“Silas would never want you to jeopardize your own health for our sake—for anyone’s sake. And I sure as hell wouldn’t want you to do that either. Seeing you carted off a field once was more than enough for me.” She looped her arm in the crook of his elbow and leaned against his side, resting her head on his shoulder. “I much prefer you like this, living a long, safe, and healthy life.”

Guilt sat like the Rock of Gibraltar in his throat. Her brother should be living a long, safe, and healthy life too.

“It was my fault,” he whispered.

Time stood stock-still as the words hung in the air. It was his voice, but Jamar could have sworn someone else had spoken. How else could he explain what had just come forth from his mouth?

“The accident,” he clarified, now that the words were out there. “It was my fault.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Drea said.

“Yes, it was. You don’t—”

“I know, Jamar,” she said, her voice soft yet insistent. “I know.” She let go of his arm and moved a couple of steps closer to the grave. “I have Silas’s cell phone. I’ve had it since that night. It miraculously survived the crash.”

Shock siphoned the air from his lungs. Shame assaulted him—hot and burning. She’d known all this time? She’d known and had never confronted him?

“I saw all the text messages he sent you that night, and how you never replied.” She ran her fingers over the engraved letters. “I wondered if maybe you didn’t have your phone on you, or if you’d had it on silent? But when I saw how guilty you looked at the hospital that night, I realized you’d purposely ignored him.” She looked up at him. “I still don’t know why. I’ve wanted to ask you so many times over the years.”

“I’m so sorry,” Jamar whispered, his throat on fire as he tried to get the words out. “Drea…”

“I’m not asking for an explanation anymore, because it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t. You were the brother he never had, Jamar. And there is nothing on this earth that you could have done that Silas wouldn’t have forgiven.” She lifted her shoulders in a helpless shrug. “So I forgave you too. I forgave you a long time ago.”

He couldn’t speak. For the life of him, he could not utter a single word.

“You have to stop blaming yourself. He wouldn’t want that. That’s how I stopped blaming you, because I knew my brother’s heart, and I knew he would never want you to carry this guilt with you.”

“How?” Jamar had to work to clear his throat. “How can you not hate me, Drea? How can you ever stop blaming me when you know he’d be alive if not for me?”