Page 11 of Ten Years Later
Immediately after, Cora called. Keaton didn’t hesitate to pick up. “Hey.”
“Detective Sparks just dropped by.”
“Really? Wow. What did she say? The girl . . . it’s her, isn’t it?”
Silence.
Keaton checked the connection. “Cora?”
“Sparks is concerned about you.”
“I’m fine. Great, actually. This is the best I’ve felt in a very long time. Did Detective Sparks follow up on my lead and go to the school?”
“No, and she’s not going to.”
“What? Why?”
“Keaton…”
“You know what? Fine. I’ll figure it out. I’ll hire an investigator to prove it. I’ve done it before. I’ll do it again.”
“You can barely pay what bills you have! Stop spending your money on private investigators. Stop digging all of this up again.” Cora’s voice cracked. “We need to heal.Ineed to heal. My God,youneed to heal. Stop driving everyone who loves you mad.”
“Do you remember the day we brought Vivian home from the hospital?”
Cora’s breath caught. “Of course.”
“I promised that we’d always be a family. I vowed to protect both of you. Children are taken every single day. But they comeback. It’s not unheard of. It’s her. Won’t you at least come and see? You’re her mom.”
Cora’s response came so softly that Keaton barely heard it. “No. I won’t do this again. Goodbye, Keaton.” She clicked off.
A text came in from Keaton’s mom:
Did you get my message? Please consider coming to the funeral tomorrow.
He ignored that message as he pulled into his driveway. When he walked into the house, the landline rang. He rarely used that line. If it rang, it usually meant a marketing call or a bill collector. However, just today he gave the number to one other person.
He answered. “Hello?”
“Yes, hi. Is this Keaton Brown?”
That’s the fake last name he gave to Miss Sharon, the owner ofPaint Away the Day!
“Yes, it is.”
“You were listed as a reference for Zane Young. He applied for a part-time job with my painting studio. Do you have a few minutes to chat?”
“I sure do.”
Thirty minutes later Keaton’s cell rang. Miss Sharon delivered the good news that he started work the next afternoon.
Around noon the following day, Keaton walked into the Presbyterian church he’d attended most of his life—the last several years…not so much. He slid into the back row of his ex-mother-in-law’s funeral. Up front Cora stoically sat, listening tothe pastor give the final prayer. Leo occupied the spot beside her, his arm cradling her shoulders. Her father was on the other side of her.
Directly across the aisle sat Keaton’s family—Zane and their mother.
Friends and extended family packed the rest of the church, evidence of how beloved Cora’s mother was.
Flowers scattered the altar, surrounding a silver urn. On a screen mounted behind the pastor, pictures flashed of family and friends. One slid across of Cora’s mother holding Vivian as a baby.
