Absolution, [ Carver echoes, halfway focused. He thinks of the river again, his mind drifting through the rocks and streams of it. He remembers, vaguely, that he’s offered this mantra out before. He meant it as a comfort the way it’s been a comfort to him over the years, but Harold didn’t take it that way.
Strange, Carver thinks. It helped him in the bad times.
He pets Bear. He doesn’t know what else to do. ]
Why didn’t you? [ Carver asks softly. ] You could’ve. You wouldn’t need to use your hands.
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Strange, Carver thinks. It helped him in the bad times.
He pets Bear. He doesn’t know what else to do. ]
Why didn’t you? [ Carver asks softly. ] You could’ve. You wouldn’t need to use your hands.