No perfect hedges.
Just color.
Movement.
Life.
In the center, beneath a new magnolia tree, we placed a simple stone.
ELEANOR MERCER
BELOVED MOTHER, SISTER, WIFE
THE TRUTH CAME HOME
I wore her emerald pendant when the stone was installed.
The real one.
Phoebe had asked if I wanted the microfilm removed permanently.
I said yes.
Evidence belonged in evidence storage.
The necklace belonged on my grandmother’s granddaughter.
Almost a year after the fall, I received a letter.
No return address.
Flynn’s handwriting.
I left it unopened for three days.
Then curiosity won.
Sloan,
I don’t expect forgiveness.
I know enough now to understand that asking for it would be another selfish act.
My mother was sentenced yesterday.
You probably already know.
Twenty-eight years.
She may die in prison.
Part of me still wants to mourn her.
I’m ashamed of that.
Another part of me keeps remembering the stairs.
