“When we were children, people didn’t understand him. He moved his hands when he was happy and talked endlessly about insects.”
She touched the moth brooch on her sweater.
“My parents were embarrassed by him. They often kept him away from visitors.”
Nobody moved.
“Eventualmente, lo enviaron a una institución. Allí pasó gran parte de su vida”.
She paused.
“He made this brooch for me. It was the last gift he ever gave me.”
Luna watched her carefully.
Marian continued.
“I’ve spent decades wishing I’d defended my brother more. Wishing I’d insisted he deserved a place beside everyone else.”
Then she looked at Ainsley.
“When you told me Luna preferred to sit separately, I believed you.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“I wanted to believe families no longer did that to children like her.”
Se volvió hacia mi hija.
“Luna, ¿me permites escribirte? Me encantaría saber más sobre tus dibujos de polilla”.
