“Do you think Willa will ever marry again?” Rad asked as he turned onto Lighthouse Lane.
“I hope so,” June said. “She is only thirty-seven.”
The number hit him strangely and rang like a bell in his head. Thirty-seven.
He kept driving, but something in the back of his mind started shifting pieces around without permission.
“So you remarried not long after you and my father divorced?” Rad asked.
June stared out the windshield.
“I was lonely,” June said at last. “And trying to build a life that felt steady again. Your father was my first great love, and after the divorce, I was also fighting to reclaim my father’s law firm from my uncle. Everything felt uncertain. Then Trevor was there, steady, kind, and patient.”
“What did he do for work?” Rad asked.
“He was an attorney with the U.S. Attorney’s Office in Miami,” June said. “He handled federal prosecutions. White-collar crime for a while, then later broader Department of Justice work.”
Rad nodded. That made sense. Smart, ambitious, respectable, grounded in the same city where June was trying to rebuild her life.
Rad drove the last stretch in silence.
The lighthouse cottage came into view ahead, pale in the moonlight, familiar and solid. He pulled into the drive and switched off the engine. For a second, neither of them moved.
Then he turned slightly toward her.
“Thank you for fetching me,” Rad said. “And for telling me what’s going on with the fires and the accidents you and my father are investigating. I think we need a meeting somewhere outside the police station, with everyone who is directly involved.”
“I agree,” June said at once. “Secrets and half-truths are causing harm now. They can cost lives, especially after what happened to Judy.”
“Yeah.” Rad unbuckled his seat belt. “We’re past the point where people can keep trying to protect each other by withholding things.”
They climbed out of the car.
The night seemed quieter here by the lighthouse. The beam swept its silent arc over the water while the yard sat in soft darkness. Rad rounded the hood, expecting a brief goodnight, but June surprised him by stepping forward and hugging him.
The embrace was warm and immediate, and it caught him so off guard that he stood still for a second before hugging her back.
“You are so much like your father,” June said as she drew away, “and that is a very good thing. I’m always here if you need someone to talk to or just to listen.”
“Thank you.” Rad swallowed hard. “I’d like that. You’re very easy to talk to.”
June’s smile widened, and she nodded.
And just like that, that impossible wish returned. For her to be his mother. For Tyler to have her as a grandmother. For some other version of life to have placed them all together years ago.
“Good night, June.” Rad gave her a slight nod and a wave. “Drive home safely.”
“I will,” June assured him. “Good night, Rad.”
She got back into the car, started the engine, and drove off down the lane.
Rad stood where he was, watching the taillights disappear into the darkness.
Their conversation echoed through his head in fragments.
We were married for four years.
We had not seen each other in roughly thirty-eight years.
