Emma wrapped an arm around the older woman’s shoulders.
Mr. T reached for Emma’s free hand. The trio made a sad and poignant picture. Faith and forgiveness reaching out to hold onto one another and keep them upright. They finally had answers but still grappled with the aftermath.
Emma met his gaze, her eyes searching his face.
He prayed she’d find whatever she needed in him. With her in his life, even for only a few short days, he’d found perspective and peace. He didn’t want her to go. But what could entice her to stay?
“I’ll update the official manner of death for both victims. We should hold a joint memorial service,” Daniel said.
“Yes, Owen would have wanted that. He dreamed of a whole future for the two of them together. And now…” Mr. T sighed.
“Sheriff,” Agent Reynolds called.
Daniel glanced away reluctantly and spotted the agent tilting his head to the side.
“Mr. T, Mrs. T,” Daniel turned to each of the grieving parents, “can you escort Emma back to camp?”
“Don’t you need me?” Emma asked and blushed.
Her verbal slip was spot-on. He did need her. He needed her here in their hometown for good. But he couldn’t ask that of her.
“For questioning, I mean?” Emma added.
“Later. You aren’t leaving right away, right?” Daniel asked, hating the lump forming in his throat.
“I won’t leave without saying goodbye,” Emma murmured.
“Let’s head back,” Mrs. T said with determination. “If you need us, Sheriff, you know where to find all of us.”
Daniel nodded and watched the trio retreat, regret snaking through his limbs with every inch of their progress. He wanted her here to give them a real chance at what they’d missed for the past several decades. He refused to push her to make a choice at a fraught, emotional time. But he could pray for her heart to be opened to the possibility. And he’d do what he did best. Stay put and be patient.
Eighteen
Emma blew across the top of the mug of coffee. Getting across the lake and back to the cabin was a blur. She didn’t remember falling asleep. But when she did, she found what she had searched for. Peace. Her dreams had swept her back to the best moments with her sister, wrapping her in a warm and forgiving embrace. She awoke exhausted and resolved.
Most of all, she was grateful for the caring friends who brought her a warm beverage in bed. “Thank you.”
“You don’t owe me a shred of gratitude,” Jennifer replied from her perch on her own bunk across the room, her legs tucked underneath her. “I’m sorry I left you out there. My ankle is feeling much better. I should have toughed it out. I could have managed.”
Emma shook her head. “Please, don’t regret that. I’m glad you two were out of the way and safe.” She glanced at Christine, sitting on the ground with her back resting on the bunk. “You had a near miss. I had no idea the depths of Margaux’s malicious behavior.”
“I hate to think what she would have done if you hadn’t twisted your ankle on accident,” Christine said over her shoulder.
Jennifer shuddered. “What did you find in the time capsule? Evidence of her crime? Was she reckless enough to leave something to implicate herself?”
“Like you both guessed, it had disposable cameras,” Emma said. “Nothing implicated her, but truth didn’t matter. In her mind, she’d been caught. She was scared and jumpy. Her behavior was increasingly erratic.” Margaux’s calm husband chilled Emma’s blood more. He justified his every action with a casual cruelty she never imagined a human being could possess.
“She was always off,” Christine said. “I know you don’t want to hear it. But we weren’t just being mean girls back then. She gave me an icky feeling.”
“And you were right in the end,” Emma said.
“Liz’s big heart killed her,” Jennifer murmured.
Emma scrunched her nose and quickly lifted her coffee cup to hide her expression. Love was her sister’s hallmark. Caring about others didn’t cause her downfall. She had been a teen trying to reach out a hand when older, better positioned people ignored a problem. “I hate to frame her death like that. I found a scrap of paper with Sorry written on it. I couldn’t remember the details of that night and tortured myself over what I had blocked out.”
“Oh, I wish you’d said something. I had been there that night.” Jennifer said. “I came into the bunk to ask for something. She was writing. I interrupted her. She told me about your fight and that she knew she needed to give you space. She didn’t want you to be mad. I guess she didn’t finish the note after I left. If I’d known, I would have told you.”
Emma’s thoughts swirled, tears stinging her eyes again. She had lost so much because of fear. She knew one thing for certain. For the rest of her life, she wanted faith and forgiveness. On that note, she pulled together what she could grasp. “I can’t help but feel a deep pang of sadness for Margaux. She was a victim, too. Wealthy families are just as capable of child neglect as those that are struggling. In a different home, with people caring for her, how different would her life have been? Maybe she can find healing behind bars.”
