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Her eyes widen. “Up there?”

I nod.

She looks back at the treehouse. “You trying to kill me, Grumpy?”

I laugh. “Nope. On the contrary.”

She turns toward me.

“Just trying to help you see a different perspective.”

Nora laughs. “Because of how high up I am?”

I shake my head. “Because pain and beauty aren’t opposites.”

Something changes in her expression as she looks back at the treehouse, studying the rope hanging above the lake and the old wooden platform where D and I spent so many afternoons.

“I can see him here,” she says quietly.

She smiles.

And just like that, the fear I had about bringing her here disappears.

This is good.

“I’ll help you up.”

I point toward the wooden steps built into the trunk, and Nora laughs as she walks toward them. But as soon as she reaches the first wide plank, she stops.

Shit.

I’d forgotten about the inscription.

Her eyes are fixed on the letters, faded after all these years but still deep enough to read.

THIS IS DJD’S TREEHOUSE. NO TRESPASSING.

Nora crouches and runs her fingers over the uneven letters.

“It’s his handwriting.”

I walk over and look down at it. “Yeah.”

She traces the D with her fingertip. “He always made his D like that.” Her voice is barely above a whisper.

I don’t say anything, giving her a moment before she blinks a few times and stands.

“I just climb up?”

I nod, but when she looks at the steps, I catch her hesitation.

“I got you.”

Her eyes meet mine, and after a moment, she nods and puts her foot on the first step. I stay right behind her as she climbs, ready to catch her if she slips.

When she reaches the top, she hauls herself onto the platform and turns toward the lake. A huge smile takes over her face.

“Wow!”