Chapter 17: What You Never Let Me Carry

Levi's POV

I woke at ten to six with a blazer over me and a cold place on the rug where Cora had been.

Her coat was gone. So was her phone.

The groundskeeper had texted at five. She had asked for a pry bar and a hand dolly, and said it was personal.

I knew where she was going before I finished reading.

I did not text her. I put on yesterday's trousers and drove.

Mount Calvary was empty at that hour, with a low sun on the wet grass.

She stood in front of the small gray stone with a pry bar wedged under its base.

She had her whole weight on the handle.

The stone had shifted an inch.

Her hair was tied up. There was dirt to her elbows.

"Go home, Levi."

"Good morning."

"I mean it."

"I know." I stopped three feet away. "May I ask what you're doing?"

"Taking it out. It says he's here. He isn't."

"Let me..."

"No."

She heaved again, and the bar slipped, and she barely caught herself before she hit the ground.

I took a step. She put up one muddy hand.

"I can do it."

"I know you can. You've done everything yourself since the day I met you."

"Then let me do this."

"Cora." I kept my voice low. "You have never once let me help."

"I..."

"Not with the lawyers. Not with the press. Not with the car, the room, the money."

I held up my empty hands.

"I have stood three feet behind you for two weeks like this, and you've stepped around me every time."

She stared at me.

"I'm not saying you owe me anything. I took your cup without asking, and I'll be sorry about that until I die."

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