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When we pull up to Gray’s house, he comes around to the passenger side and lifts me out of the car. I tell him to put me down but he doesn’t listen, carrying me through the door and safely depositing me onto the couch.
“Stay right there. Don’t move,” he demands. “I’m going to get your meds from the car.”
He leaves, but I’m not alone for long before his mom comes in. Her eyes widen when she looks at me—stitches on my face, my wrist in a cast, bruises in multiple places. She comes over and sits down.
“Oh, honey. Are you all right?”
“I’ve been better, but I’ll live. That’s more than I can say for him.”
She frowns. “I was sorry to hear about your father.”
“Don’t be,” I tell her honestly. “The death of your husband and the death of my father are not the same. Mr. Hayworth was a good man who deserved to live a long, healthy, and free life. My father was not. Please don’t confuse the two.”
Knowing what I know now, about the key part I played in her husband’s wrongful conviction, the fact that she’s so warm and welcoming, shocks me even more than before. She would have every right to hate me, the same way Grayson did for a while, but she doesn’t. She treats me the same way she always has, with love and respect. I’m lucky to have her, and her son, in my life.
I STAND IN FRONT of the casket in my black dress, but not a single tear is shed from my eyes. He’s been gone for a week, and I’m yet to feel even the slightest bit of grief. The only reason he’s getting a funeral in the first place is because my grandparents insisted on it. Regardless of not hearing from their son for nearly a decade, they were devastated to hear about his death. I, however, just want to get this part of my day over with.
The priest talks about what a loving friend, son, and father he was, and it takes everything I have not to laugh. Grayson stands beside me, smirking when he sees the expression on my face. He’s my saving grace, my best friend, and my rock. No matter what I’ve been feeling lately, he’s there to listen to it. I don’t know what I would do without him.
The funeral ends, and my grandmother finally releases my hand. I hug her briefly before excusing myself. As we make our way toward Grayson’s car, people stop to give me their condolences. I fake a smile and thank each one of them. However, when we finally get through the large group, a familiar face catches me off guard.
“I didn’t think I’d see you here,” I tell Knox.
He shares a look with Grayson that has me questioning its meaning, but I brush it off the moment he speaks. “I’m sorry for your loss, Savannah.”
“Don’t be. I’m not.”
Both him and Grayson chuckle while Knox’s gaze rakes over me. “You lose a fight with a train?”
“Something like tha
t,” I tell him, looking at my phone for the time. “Babe, we really have to get going.”
He looks at me curiously. “Are you in a rush to celebrate?”
I smirk. “Yes, but not what you think.”
We say our goodbyes to Knox and head to the restaurant. The whole ride there, Grayson keeps glancing at me, but I’ve had enough practice in keeping my face completely emotionless. What he’s getting today is long overdue, and the fact that it’s the same day as my father’s funeral makes it that much sweeter.
As we walk in, I recognize the man as soon as I see him. His perfectly tailored black suit doesn’t have a single wrinkle on it, and his son is the spitting image of him. I grab Grayson’s hand and lead him over to the table.
“Mr. Trayland.”
He smiles and stands up to embrace me. “Savannah. It’s great to see you again.”
After he and Grayson introduce themselves, the three of us sit down. There isn’t anything that could hide the confusion on Gray’s face, and if I wasn’t so eager for this, I’d let him stay that way for a bit.
“Grayson, I’d just like to apologize on behalf of the criminal justice system for the grave injustice your father suffered.” He slides a small envelope across the table. “I know it doesn’t bring back your dad, but I hope it helps give you some closure.”
Gray rips open the envelope and pulls out the letter from inside. His mouth moves as he silently reads the words on the page. Finally, when he gets to the most important part, tears spring to his eyes.
“H-he was exonerated?”
Mr. Trayland nods. “As of yesterday morning.”
Wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, he shakes his head. “I don’t understand. How?”
“When Savannah confronted her father, she recorded it and captured a full confession. With that, we were able to reopen the investigation and prove your father’s innocence.”
