Something in me loosened.
Two weeks after surgery, I played Rebecca’s tape.
Daniel wasn’t home.
I sat at the kitchen table and pressed PLAY.
Static.
Then a young woman’s voice.
“Testing. Daniel says this recorder is easy, which means he’ll explain it to me seventeen times.”
I laughed.
Rebecca coughed.
Then:
“Emily, if you’re hearing this, either my brother actually married the bookstore girl, which would be hilarious, or Daniel has become even stranger than expected.”
I covered my mouth.
Her voice became softer.
“I don’t know you. That feels important to say.”
A pause.
“But I know him.”
Static crackled.
“Daniel will try to save you from things that haven’t happened yet.”
My eyes filled.
“He’ll call it preparation. He’ll call it responsibility. He might even call it love.”
Another pause.
“It is love. But love can become frightening when fear is driving it.”
Rebecca took a breath.
“If that happens, don’t become his medicine.”
