A murmur ran through the volunteers.
Hope tried to push deeper into Micah’s leg.
Evelyn looked at the ground before she spoke again.
“He left me his share of the Kane estate,” she said. “The house. The investment accounts. The lake property. Things I never wanted and never asked for. I sold what I could as fast as I could. This is most of it.”
Micah’s expression didn’t change.
“Congratulations.”
A flicker of pain crossed her face.
“I know what you think of me.”
“No,” he said. “You really don’t.”
Tank came to stand beside Micah.
Then Deacon.
Then me.
Just instinct.
Same as that night at the rest stop.
Same formation.
Only this time it wasn’t a man in golf clothes and a practiced smile across from us.
It was a woman who looked like she’d been holding her breath her whole life.
“My father can’t use this money anymore,” Evelyn said, voice thin but steady. “And I can’t pretend it’s just furniture and stock certificates. I found the old case files after he died. The reports. The photos. I read what happened to the puppy. I read what happened to Micah’s mother. I read what happened to him.”
