“There you are, I thought you’d fallen back asleep,” I say, walking into his open arms. His body is rigid with tension. Lifting my eyes to his, I note his clenched jaw. “Is everything all right?”
“We need to talk.”
Grabbing my hand, he leads me over to the couch. My heart hammers in my chest. I have no idea what he’s about to say but judging by the look on his face, whatever it is, it can’t be good.
“I have no idea how to tell you this.”
I swallow hard. “Tell me what?”
“I had one of my men look into Teddy and your mother. Your step-father is alive.”
Gasping, I lift a shaky hand to cover my chest. “What?”
“He survived.”
“Teddy is alive? Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
“Can I—can we go see him?”
“It’s already been taken care of. We leave first thing in the morning.”
I shake my head, confused, elated, so many emotions. “How is it even possible?”
“What all do you remember from that night?”
Thinking back, I’ve tried to block out so many memories from that night but some are still as vivid as if they happened just yesterday.
“My mother tucked me into bed, just like she always did. We’d spent the day in her pottery barn behind the house. The next morning we were heading out early to set up a booth in town for the annual festival. It was a big deal. People would come from miles around to buy her pottery. I was so excited. After a year of watching her and practicing, she was letting me display some of my own pieces. They weren’t nearly as good as hers but I was excited all the same. I wanted to be just like her.”
I smile to myself as the memories of me and Mama filter in. “There was a time when all I had was those memories of us to push on. Times when it was all I had left in the world.” I swallow past the lump in my throat and press on. To the memories that continue to haunt me.
“Then the next thing I knew, I was being carried to the living room by a strange man. I fought and screamed to get away but once I saw my mother and Teddy kneeling on the floor, escaping had been my last concern. My father killed her right in front of me while two of his men held me in place. Each time I tried to turn away, they would force me to watch.”
A sob tears from my lips, the horrific images flooding my mind. “There was so much blood. I’d never felt a greater pain than watching my mother die. My father told me that if I ever betrayed him, I would suffer the same fate.” Justin reaches for a Kleenex on the table beside the couch, handing it to me. I wipe my eyes and nose. “I was dragged away before I saw what happened to Teddy but I remember his cries of pain. They still haunt my dreams. That’s why it’s so hard to believe he survived. That my father would have let him live.”
“I don’t think that was his intention. What they did to him, no one should have survived that.”
I begin to cry; thinking of what he must have gone through. Losing my mother, me, and facing it all alone.
Justin pulls me into his arms, holding me close and stroking my back. I bury my head in his chest, finding comfort in his arms. Hope forms in my heart at the thought of going back there, of being reunited with Teddy and revisiting the place that my mother loved the most. Where she was most happy. Where I have the greatest memories.
***
Arriving at the house I grew up in, I am immediately assaulted by so many memories. The tire swing in the front yard where I used to play. My old bike is resting against the porch, rusted and discolored. The place is run-down, in desperate need of repair. The shutters have faded with the sun and one hangs haphazardly next to my old bedroom window. My heart sinks in my chest when the front door swings open and I see Teddy’s figure fill the space. He’s holding a shotgun, large sunglasses covering his eyes.
“Who’s there?” he barks.
I take a few tentative steps forward but Justin grabs my arm before I can walk any farther.
Swallowing past the knot in my throat, I say, “It’s me, Teddy. Selena.”
He walks out from behind the screen door onto the porch, lowering his shotgun. “Selena?”
“Yes.”
Justin releases me and I take a few more steps toward him. Teddy’s knees grow weak, nearly taking him to the floor of the rickety porch.
