"I'm sorry," Kubo broke in. "I'm sorry remembering doesn't give you . . . peace."

Remembering . . . didn't seam to give his mother or father peace either, but it was the closest word he knew to how his father had smiled at him, when they both knew who he was.

"But how do you know this is right? This . . . this solution. It could be a lie. What proves it isn't? That it's hard?"

He wanted to step away. He wanted so much to step back. But wanting something . . . did that make it right?

He stepped forward. One foot.

"Maybe it's easier to walk in the light with us? But that doesn't mean it's wrong."