“You’re a dead man walking,” I said softly. “You’re the ghost who came back.”
“I am.” He looked down at his hands. “I’m sorry, Em. For everything. For letting your father make that deal. For leaving you behind.”
“You did it to keep me breathing, Lucas. I can’t hate you for that. But I can’t just… pretend the last six years didn’t happen. I buried you. I mourned you. I learned how to live in a world without you.”
Lucas nodded slowly, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “I know. I’m not asking you to take me back. I don’t deserve that. I just… I needed to see you alive. One last time before I disappear into the debriefing rooms.”
He reached into his pocket. He pulled out a small, velvet pouch.
“They gave me my personal effects back from the evidence locker,” he said. He tipped the pouch into my good hand.
