Page 4 of Veil of Silence

“Marlowe’s here.” Her mother kept stirring the sauce. “I can hear that thing from the county line.”

A few seconds later, the motorcycle cut off in the driveway. The back door banged, and Marlowe came through carrying a two-liter bottle of Coke in each hand, her helmet tucked beneath one arm.

Wren caught the door before it closed and followed her inside. “I heard her coming from the cabin.”

Marlowe set the bottles on the counter. “So did everyone else in Fog Lake.”

Wren’s gaze tracked toward the living room, where Mason sat on the floor with Bo beside him.

“Nash make it to Nashville okay?” Nora asked as she tossed the salad.

Wren nodded. “A little while ago. He has some things to straighten out with the Bureau about his medical leave. He’ll probably be gone a few days.”

“And Tank?”

“He went with him. I offered to dog-sit, but Nash said Tank loves a good road trip.” Wren smiled.

A small rush of happiness moved through Nora. After everything Wren had endured, seeing her this settled—with Mason home and Nash in her life—felt like something none of them had dared hope for a few weeks ago.

Still, Wren watched Mason more closely now. She touched him more too. A hand on his shoulder when they crossed a parking lot. Fingers brushing his hair when he walked past.

Nora understood. She’d be the same way if she had a kid.

Bo abruptly came barreling back into the kitchen. His paws slid on the linoleum before he crashed against Nora’s legs and looked up at her with his whole ridiculous face.

She gave him a dirty look.

Goblin.

Bo continued to stare until Nora tore off a tiny piece of garlic bread and dropped it into his mouth. He swallowed without chewing.

“Dad’s behind me,” Wren announced.

“Good.” Their mother turned from the stove. “I asked him to stop at Miller’s and pick up an apple pie.”

Headlights swept across the kitchen window, and their mother wiped her hands on a dish towel before carrying the sauce toward the dining room.

Last week, at Dad’s request, the store Dad worked for had transferred him to its Knoxville location.

Since then, Dad had spent many nights on Nora’s couch. He claimed the arrangement was temporary, but his overnight bag had remained beside the coat closet for nearly a week.

Wednesday was Dad’s only evening off, which was part of the reason none of them had made it to church for the past three weeks. Nobody had actually suggested they skip. It had simply seemed more important, for now, to spend the evening together while Christian was still finding his footing.

Nora told herself they’d get back to their normal routine soon.

Wren waited until their mother walked away before lowering her voice. “She’s staying again tonight?”

“Looks like it.”

“For how long?”

“I don’t know.”

Their mother had gone back to her own place twice since Christian’s return, both times for clothes. Otherwise, she’d settled into Nora’s house as if she’d never left.

Before Nora could say anything else, Mom returned to humming beneath her breath. For the first two weeks, it had been “Softly and Tenderly.” She’d moved on since to “I’ll Fly Away.”

A few minutes later, their father came inside with an apple pie and handed it to his ex-wife as if bringing dessert to the house where they’d once raised four children was something he’d done every Wednesday for the past ten years.