Page 103 of The Ghost of You

Becca turns and looks at her child as he walks up the stairs. She wraps an arm around him and coddles him.

I can’t help but feel a familiarity from him. Becca has sent me a few photos of her kids, always awkward photos. Faces half covered or profiles. I know this is her oldest, her two others are girls. He was the result of a one-night stand and Becca was always ashamed of him but I know her husband took him on as his own. She was only a few months pregnant when they met.

I am about to ask her when he turns toward me. “Who are you?”

I stumble backward over the last step on the stairs, crashing to the ground.

I don’t need Becca to explain.

I don’t need any answers anymore.

Because everything is as clear as day in that little boys shining copper eyes.

“It was you.”

Becca’s face falls. “Anna, let me explain.”

“There is nothing you can say to make this better.”

“But I—”

I hold a hand up, stopping her. “Don’t.”

“Anna, please.”

But I don’t let her say a thing. There is nothing she can say to me. I find myself running down the steps of the country club. Across the town I grew up in. Away from everything I thought I knew.

Because the greatest betrayal was standing there right in front of my eyes.

25

Noah

I lookfor Anna but I can’t find her. I thought she stepped outside but no one has seen her. I check one more time in the back entrance and pause when I hear an argument.

“Why the hell did you come here?”

“I had to see her.”

“Oh, you had to see her? You decided you were finally going to confess your sins?”

I hear a sniffle. “Well, no, but what was I supposed to say?”

“Nothing,” Jessica hisses. “You weren’t supposed to say a thing because I told you to stay away from her.”

“I didn’t mean for her to find out this way.”

“She never should have found out. You are a lying bitch and a worthless piece of trash. My sister did not deserve what you did to her.”

The rage in Jessica’s voice is tangible. I step out and see her arguing with Becca. But that’s not what stops me in my tracks. It’s the little boy clinging to Becca’s leg. The boy with the copper eyes. Eyes I saw last night in a picture.

“It was a mistake,” Becca pleads.

I take that moment to make myself known. I step out behind the pillar on the building and face a woman I never met before.

“Are those the words you want to tell your son one day?”

Becca and Jessica turn their heads toward me.

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