“I don’t know,” Sam exasperates. “I’m trying to figure it out, but I keep running into dead ends. Both of their social media accounts are down. There are no local reports mentioned of a feud, though it does seem the two families, the Martins and the Callahans, have a history of going to war with one another.”
“Huh,” is all I respond with. While Sam says something to Ethan, I think over everything she’s said, trying to make sense of it all. “Honestly, it sounds like a small-town feud that the theater got caught up in the middle of. Kinda rude on the Callahans’ part, if you ask me.”
“Yeah, that’s for sure,” Sam scoffs, sniffling again. “And poor Remi. She’s just an absolute mess thinking this whole thing is her fault. I’m going down to Willow Bay in the morning to meet up with her and try to figure out what’s going on since Bradford’s keeping me in the dark.”
I find myself nodding along though Sam can’t see me. “Yeah, well, let me know what you find out. I’ll be praying for you and over the situation.”
Silence settles between us for a beat before Sam, in a small voice, says, “Thank you, Meme. I just needed to talk to my best friend.”
Tears prickle in my eyes as my heart unfreezes. “Me too. I’ve missed you.”
“I’m so sorry, Meme. This isn’t my excuse, but it’s my reason. I’m married to your brother, and I didn’t want to step on my in-law’s toes by going against their wishes. You don’t have to believe me, but I promise you, I told them time and time again that they were wrong and that you deserved to know. I tried, Meme. I tried.”
She sobs on the other end of the line, and I join in, knowing good and well she’s telling me the truth. I can hear the honesty and the heartbreak in her tone. I can feel her presence through this device. And I know it’s only a small step in mending what’s been unraveled, but I take it. “I forgive you, Sammie. I understand, I do. But I’m still hurt. That’s going to take some time to heal.”
“I know,” she says through her tears. “And Meme?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m proud of you. For standing your ground.”
***
The sun shines a little brighter today as Ashton and I head for the paint studio I wrote about in my novel.
“What’s got you in a buoyant mood?” Ashton asks as we walk down the boardwalk. Crowds of people are out today, basking in the sun, sipping on drinks, and enjoying life.
“I talked to Sam last night.”
“Oh? And?”
Smiling softly as I remember her words—how she told me she was proud of me for standing up for myself—I meet Ashton’s hazel eyes and reply, “I forgave her.”
“Forgiveness frees the soul, doesn’t it?” Ashton throws his head back for a moment as the sunlight pours down upon him.
I think of the hurt and the betrayal I still feel like a week-old wound. “Eh, it’s a start.”
Ashton laughs, and then we continue to look around for Noah, asking employees as we pass them. We do that until we reach the paint studio, which is currently in the middle of a session as we walk through the propped-open door.
Today, the model is a young, blond-haired man who looks the epitome of a California surfer guy. All eyes turn to me and Ashton, and the director of the studio, an older, petite woman with thick black hair and round glasses, shouts, “It’s you!”
Within moments, she’s standing before us, her jaw dropped to the floor.
“Hi there,” Ashton says. “My name is Ashton, and this is Esme. We are looking for…”
“You’re the woman who got attacked last year.” Her pin-prick eyes flick to Ashton. “You were our model.”
“No, ma’am.” Ashton waves both his hands in dismissal. “That was my twin brother, Noah. Speaking of, have you seen him? Another guy that looks like me walking about?”
She shakes her head, the beads to her glasses chain holder clinking. “Dear, how are you?”
“I, uh—” I look to Ashton for help, but he shrugs, leaving me to tell my own story. “I’m good now. I have amnesia from the attack, so I don’t remember you. I’m sorry.”
A certain air of pity fills her rotund face. “We heard about what happened, and I’ve been praying for you both. It’s nice to see you and get an update.” She tilts her head. “And your man? You said you were looking for him?”
Now Ashton speaks up. “Yes, my twin. He’s been missing for two months, and we thought he might have run off to come here. It’s the anniversary of the accident.”
The woman frowns. “I’m sorry, sincerely. I wish I had information. I…”
