Page 28 of A Love Like Candle Light

Mom got out of prison when I was thirteen. Not that it made any difference. She never reached out. Dad got one letter from her, which were divorce papers. Once he signed them, she disappeared without a word or trace.

Which also made me angry. She’s the one who brought us into this mess to begin with, and then she has the audacity to fuck right off?

Whenever people ask me if I believe in the justice system, she is the reason I struggle with my answer. She destroyed so many lives with her bribery. She had buildings torn down that meant so much to the community, because someone slipped her money. Got illegal permits signed off, which led to parts of a building collapsing during construction. One of the workers lost his foot and another one now has an arm so messed up he’ll never be able to work in construction again.

Yet she’s walking free after only a few years, and my dad, who, yes, tried to rob a bank but didn’t actually hurt a soul, got a quarter of a century behind bars. How is this just?

“Hey, Dad,” I mumble against his shoulder and hug him a little tighter. “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too, son.” He takes a deep breath and pats my shoulder. He always waits for me to break the hug. And I will. Soon. I just need two more seconds.

Clearing my throat, I break the hug and take a seat on the cold metal bench.

“How’s it going?” He sits down opposite me. “Is anything exciting going on in Wayward Hollow?”

“For once, there actually is,” I say with a chuckle and rub the back of my neck. “The woman who moved into the last lakeside house found a human skeleton in her backyard.”

“Oh?” He sits down and folds his hands on the table in front of him. “Interesting.”

“Right? Between the two of us, I might actually get to be the lead investigator. Rick is on it for now, but I doubt it's the kind of case he wants to keep.”

“That’s wonderful! I know you’ll do well! But-“ He leans in and searches my face. “Pray tell, why did your eyes light up when you mentioned the woman who moved found it?”

I stare at him and blink. Am I that obvious?

“You’re annoyingly perceptive.” I bite the inside of my cheek to contain a grin.

“Obviously. Where do you think you got it from?” He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. “What’s her name?”

“Kylie,” I mumble and stare at the table.

“And this Kylie.” His grin widens. “Is she cute?”

“Yes, she is.” And there goes my attempt to hide a smile. “But don’t go and think you’ll have a daughter in law soon.” Or at all. “We met each other for the first time when they called me in. Though she did spend the night at my place,” I can’t help but add.

I didn’t think his grin could get any wider, but I’m mistaken.

“Not like that. Anyway.” I pull a thin file out of my bag.

Cho met up with me yesterday, only hours after he left the message. When I got to his office, he pulled up a picture of the woman he suspects could be my sister. I stared at it for what felt like hours, none the wiser.

Maybe it’s her. It’s hard to say. After all, the pictures I can go off are twenty years old, or a pencil sketch of what she might look like as an adult. I was too young when it happened, I don’t have many memories of her or what she looked like. No reliable ones, anyways.

This is the first lead to give me hope, though. There’s some resemblance.

“A buddy of mine might have found a lead.” The smile slowly slips off Dad’s lips and makes place for a sad frown.

“Is that so?”

“I don’t know.” I let out a sigh and take out the picture. After a quick glance at it, I turn it to him and slide it over the table. “What do you think? Is this her?”

He picks the image up and stares at it, without any change in his expression. I watch him. At first, he doesn’t move a muscle. He doesn’t blink and I’m not sure he’s even breathing. Then he lifts it closer to his face and narrows his eyes.

“Is it her?” I ask. My stomach is doing flips. Could this really be it? The breakthrough to finding my sister after all these years?

My bubble of hope bursts, with a loud ‘bang’ in my head, because he shakes his.

“No. It’s not her.” He rubs his glassy eyes and slides the image back my way. “Your sister, she had a little scar on top of her lip from when she ran into a radiator. Right there.” He points at his upper lip, the left corner of his cupids bow.