Lorna got out of the car to stop him from accosting anyone and saw the woman sitting on a blanket under an oak tree. A black Lab puppy was on the edge of the blanket, gnawing on a stick.
There was Mrs. Tracy. She was probably in her seventies now, but she hopped to her feet without a problem and gestured for Bean to come through the gate. Bean eagerly went in, careful to shut the gate behind him. He spoke to Mrs. Tracy, then dipped down to meet the excited puppy. It instantly abandoned its stick in favor of the boy.
Mrs. Tracy smiled down at the pair, then looked across the yard to Lorna, whose gut turned over on itself. She tried to smile back, tried not to look like she would vomit at any moment as she walked up to the fence. “Hi,” she said.
“Hello,” Mrs. Tracy said. “Your son must love dogs.”
“Oh, he’s...” She didn’t need to explain Bean. “Umm... could I come in?” she asked.
“I beg your pardon, I should have invited you,” Mrs. Tracy said, and opened the gate. She was hardly looking at Lorna; her gaze was fixed on Bean and the puppy. Bean was running in circles, and the puppy was nipping at his heels, barking. Bean laughed.
“I should... I should introduce myself,” Lorna said. How did one go about meeting the mother of the woman your sister killed? She realized she wasn’t quite prepared.
Mrs. Tracy turned back. She had deep lines around her eyes and mouth. But she was still smiling.
“I’m Lorna Lott.”
The name apparently didn’t register, because Mrs. Tracy said, “I’m Karen Tracy. Do you live nearby?”
“No. Umm...” Her heart was racing. “I know who you are, Mrs. Tracy.”
Mrs. Tracy’s smile faltered. She looked at Bean, as if she suspected some nefarious plot to kidnap her dog.
“We’re fine—he’sfine. He’s innocent. I’m Kristen Lott’s sister. She was... with Nicole...”
She couldn’t say it, but she didn’t have to. Mrs. Tracy’s expression morphed into instant grief.Thatwas grief, Micah. Pure, unadulterated grief.
“I don’t understand,” Mrs. Tracy said.
“I would like to apologize.”
“For what?”
“For my sister.”
Behind Mrs. Tracy, Bean squealed with delight. He was on his back, and the wiggling, excited puppy was crawling all over him.
Mrs. Tracy was staring hard at Lorna. “What is this all about?My daughter died years ago, and I would rather not relive it. I don’t know anything about your sister.”
“That’s what—”
“Do you think that even after all these years, I can talk about it without feeling terrible pain? Because I can’t. I think about her every day. So whatever you think you need to say, I don’t want to hear it.”
Mrs. Tracy’s grief was rolling off her in waves that hit Lorna hard. She felt unsteady because she knew that sort of grief. She had felt it at her core. “My sister was with—”
“Then I am very sorry. But my daughter was driving and on drugs. I never knew she did drugs, not until the toxicology report came back and said she hadmethin her blood! Nicole! On meth! That girl never did anything wrong in her life, but what do I know? What did I really know about my daughter? People don’t just do meth.”
Bean had stopped playing with the puppy and was watching the two of them with concern while the puppy latched onto his pant leg and began to growl and pull in a tug-of-war.
“That’s what I’m trying to say, just very badly. She didn’t do drugs, Mrs. Tracy; I feel confident she didn’t. I knew her all through college and she never did anything like that. But my sister did. My sister is an addict, and she was in that car, and I’m certain she talked them into taking the meth. She probably talked them into driving her to get it. She might have even talked them into paying for it, because she didn’t make a lot of money.”
Mrs. Tracy’s mouth fell open.
“I am so sorry. For your unconscionable loss and my sister’s part in it. It’s been eating away at me since—”
“Why did no one tell me?” Mrs. Tracy cried angrily.
“I don’t... I don’t know,” Lorna lied. She hadn’t because bothMom and Kristen had told her to leave it alone, that nothing would bring Nicole back.
