Sophie was something else.
Silent.
When David finally called, Rachel answered first.
She did not immediately give Sophie the phone.
She spoke to him for forty minutes.
Angry.
Crying.
Sometimes both.
Then she came into Sophie’s room.
“He wants to talk.”
Sophie stared.
“Do I have to?”
“No.”
That mattered.
She thought for nearly a minute.
Then nodded.
Rachel handed over the phone.
David’s voice had changed.
Older.
Rougher.
“Hey, Soph.”
She said nothing.
“Sophie?”
“I’m here.”
A pause.
“I’m sorry.”
Still nothing.
He continued.
“I don't have a good explanation.”
“Good.”
David stopped.
Sophie said:
“Because I don't want one that makes it okay.”
“No.”
His voice broke.
“It wasn't okay.”
She stared at the blue toolbox on her floor.
“I found the bike.”
Silence.
Then a sound like David trying not to cry.
“You did?”
“Yes.”
“Did the blackberry door still work?”
Sophie almost smiled.
“Yeah.”
“Of course it did.”
“Jack said you should've robbed banks.”
David laughed once.
“Who's Jack?”
Sophie looked toward the hallway where Jack was helping Rachel repair a cabinet hinge.
“Guy who walked with me.”
David became quiet.
“Good guy?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know?”
Sophie thought.
“He never took the box.”
David did not understand.
Not yet.
Sophie continued.
“He asked before helping.”
Silence.
Then:
“Good.”
She asked:
“Did you mean the letter?”
“Every word.”
“The part about selling the bike?”
“Yes.”
“What if I keep it?”
“Then keep it.”
“What if I paint it pink?”
David groaned.
Sophie smiled for the first time.
“I knew it.”
“No.”
“You said it's mine.”
“Legally yes.”
“So pink.”
“Can we discuss literally any other color?”
She laughed.
Rachel heard from the hallway.
Then cried quietly into one hand.
David returned to Pennsylvania three months later.
He walked with a cane.
His right leg remained weaker.
Sophie found the symmetry annoying.
“You stole my thing.”
He looked at her crutches.
“What?”
“Mobility equipment.”
David laughed.
The reunion did not happen at an airport.
No dramatic running.
Rachel refused theatrics.
Jack drove Sophie to a small regional bus station because David insisted on finishing the final distance by bus.
The doors opened.
Passengers stepped off.
Then David.
Forty-three.
Thinner than the photographs.
Hair more gray.
Cane.
Small duffel bag.
He saw Sophie.
Stopped.
Sophie looked at him for a long time.
Then moved forward.
Clack.