Nothing heroic.
Nothing I had even remembered.
Yet it became his compass.
I placed one hand over the leaf.
“You spent your whole life thanking me for something I never knew I gave you.”
The branches moved above me.
Red leaves crossed the sky like small, bright letters.
For a moment, I considered placing Carl’s leaf back inside the novel.
Instead, I let it fall beside the roots.
Not discarded.
Returned.
Then I closed the book and carried it home.
