"Can you forgive me?" Granddad asks.
Forgive you for what? Tim wonders. For saving all those mice? For protecting me from my drug-addicted father? For being there my whole life?
But then it occurs to him to ask, "Do you know who I am?"
For a long moment, his grandfather doesn't answer, doesn't give the smallest sign. Tim wonders if he even heard the question. Finally, though, he shakes his head, and Tim's throat goes raw.
"I'm afraid," Granddad says, "I'm afraid I've forgotten."
But a gentle hand reaches out to touch Tim's face. "I only know..." The hand traces a line along Tim's jaw to his chin. "I know you are someone I love."
Tim's shoulders lift. When his grandfather is rested, he will remember Tim's name once more. Tim is certain of that. But for now—and even for that other time when Granddad might forget again—the love will do.
"I love you, too," Tim says. "You know that I love you."
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