“What do you remember?” I asked.
“That night,” Solomon said. “The night you fell.”
He grabbed me by the arms, pulled me into a hug. His whole body was shaking. Not from the cold.
“It’s okay,” I said. “We’re going to be okay.”
A bell clanged on a buoy out in the river. Thunder thudded, distant now.
“I’m slipping,” he said. “It’s like the rain is washing me away. Washing all of this away, this Solomon-shaped person I’ve constructed. The walls are coming down. And I can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”