“Yeah. Yeah. That would be good.”
“It’s okay, Luce,” he says, reaching over and grabbing my hand. “This will be just as hard for her. Remember that. Try not to be too Kara. I’ll go and tell her you’re here. Give her some time too.”
“Okay.”
He squeezes my hand before he climbs out the car, and I wait.
Stock. Still.
I’m not even sure I’m breathing as Owen crosses the gravel driveway and knocks on the dark blue door with a wreath on it.He knocks, it opens, and light encases her little frame, making it look like she’s been basked in a halo.
Emotion claws at my throat.
My palms sweat, my forehead is clammy, and I grip the knife in my hand as something builds in my throat.
They hug. And it’s so familiar between them. Something bitter sits in my stomach, churning. I clear my throat. I see the moment Owen tells her. Her hands go to her mouth, and she looks around him, straight to the car where I’m sitting, completely unsure what to do.
Completely frozen.
Completely terrified.
Completely and utterly jealous that he found her and not me.
How ridiculous is that? Of all the emotions that I’m feeling, one of them is jealousy.
Luca Knight would have known who I am. Luca Knight would have known that we shared a past, so why didn’t he ever tell Owen?
I rub at my forehead, at more of the unanswered questions, knowing that the only person who can tell me is Luca. And well, he’s a ghost. Hidden so well, not even I know how to reach him.
Owen turns and waves me over.
I climb out the car and glance up at the stars again.
Remembering how insignificant I am. Remembering how insignificant this moment is in the grand scheme of the universe.
Even though I know this is anything but insignificant.
This is me, facing my past.
The gravel crunches under my boots, and I stare at my feet, not ready to meet her eyes. Not ready to look at the kindness of them. I stop next to Owen, still staring at my black boots.
“Lucy.” Her voice washes over me like a blanket. A stifling, yet comforting one, and I’m transported back to being a small girl.
Timid, broken, and terrified.
I’m her again.
No, Lucy. You’re not her. You’re more. You’re Kara.
I swallow down the emotion that threatens to choke me before I look up into the familiar face of the only person I’ve ever called a mother.
“Hello, Mum.”
40
Owen - Age 20
Section18GBH,inflictingor wounding with intent to cause grievous bodily harm. That was my crime. That was what made me serve twenty-four months, to be left to rot in a cell whilst she was left alone in hell.
