Just like my family, Gavin and Guy, the men who chased her, who tormented her, are also gone.
As the sunrise grows less pinkish-blue and more yellow, I try to sort these ideas in my mind, to understand what they mean.
No matter who you are or what you do, the moment you die, it’s over. The clock stops, time is up. No more chances to change your path or make amends, no more chances to make things right…
Or wrong.
Everything up to that moment is frozen in time.
Lara’s breath is a gentle whisper in the room. Sliding my palm along the smooth skin of her arm, holding her against me, I dip my chin to kiss her neck. She makes a happy sound, and warmth moves through my stomach.
I left home all those years ago wanting to be one of the good guys. I met her, and I found a way to be a hero. The chapter is closed, and we’ve gotten a lot of answers. We can put that book on the shelf.
Still, our time isn’t over.
We’ll be married, join our lives, take care of Jillian, and hopefully have more children… The clock is still going, still time to do good, to make a difference, to be heroes.
22
Don’t let the bitter steal your sweet.
Lara
A light mist shrouds the enormous black iron planter at the entrance to the square. It’s early and the green space is empty, the curved walkways leading to the front of the cathedral quiet and touched with dew.
Another hour, and it will be flooded with street vendors and tourists, but for these magical minutes, it’s deserted, serene.
Burning yellow sunlight filters through the dark spires high above, causing the gray slate tiles to shimmer. Crosses stand like beacons between each, and like everything since we returned to the city, the edifice doesn’t feel ominous anymore. It feels hopeful.
The large gas lanterns at the entrance on Decatur Street are still lit, and dawn is just touching the glossy green leaves of the banana trees clustered along the wrought iron fence.
It rained earlier, but humidity still hangs heavy in the air. The flagstone sidewalks are glassy, and Molly steps up t
o me holding a bouquet of deep blue iris flowers mixed with moonflowers and white roses.
My dress is ivory gossamer fabric over a light sheath. Lace patterns cover the bodice over flesh-toned fabric, and my hair is smoothed into a bun at the nape of my neck. I’m not wearing a veil. We decided to forego such traditions, since Evie is down front holding our daughter.
“You look beautiful,” Molly says quietly.
“So do you.”
She’s wearing a short gray dress made of flowing silk held up by spaghetti straps. A silk sash is around her waist, and her long hair falls over her shoulders.
“I wanted to give you this.” She holds out her palm, and a rectangular piece of plastic sits in it.
“What is it?”
“He had them all on his computer. Probably watched them, the perv.”
My brow furrows, and I realize she means Gavin. “These are the videos?”
“Yeah. I made sure they’re all there then I wiped his hard drive.” Her lips tighten, and she lifts her chin to look up at the spires. “I don’t recommend watching them… unless you have to.”
“But… how?”
“I went back after they sent me home.” She blinks back to me. “I had a hunch. It didn’t take long to find them.”
Roland appears, walking quickly toward us from the direction of the cathedral doors. “We should probably get moving if we’re going to beat the crowds.”