“You know,” I started, hesitantly, “I didn’t do all this just for me. Mom always said—”

“Don’t,” he interrupted sharply, his eyes flashing with an emotion I couldn’t quite decipher. “Don’t bring her into this.”

“But she believed in me,” I insisted, my voice rising. “She wanted this for me. She wanted you to want this for me.”

He looked at me then, really looked at me, and I saw the shadow of a man who once loved fiercely and lived fully. Yet, what remained now was a shell, hollowed out by loss and bitterness. “I’m trying, Sophie,” he said finally, his voice cracking. “But it’s hard.”