Chapter 3
916 Words
Chapter Three
Lanesra sat in her car outside the café, the folded paper Erin had given her resting in her lap like a time bomb. She could feel its weight, heavier than it should have been, as if it carried the potential to shatter everything she thought she knew.
Her fingers traced the edges, her mind spinning. She could just throw it away. Pretend she never met Erin, never heard those words that planted doubt like poison in her veins. But the problem with doubt was that once it took root, it was nearly impossible to kill.
Her son’s face flashed in her mind—his smile, his laughter, the way he looked up at Kade as if he were the only father he had ever known. If she opened this note, if she found something that proved Erin right… what would it mean for them? For her little boy?
Her eyes burned as she tightened her grip on the note, her breath shaky. There was only one place she could go to think clearly. A place where the noise of the world didn’t reach her, where she could hear her own heart speak.
Her father’s grave.
The cemetery was quiet, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and wildflowers left by grieving visitors. Lanesra walked slowly along the familiar path, the gravel crunching beneath her feet, until she reached the modest headstone that bore her father’s name.
She knelt before it, tracing the carved letters with her fingertips.
“Hey, Dad,” she whispered, her voice catching in her throat. “I need you.”
A light breeze stirred the leaves, rustling through the nearby trees. It was almost as if he were listening. He always listened, even if he wasn’t here to answer.
Lanesra sat cross-legged on the ground, staring at the note still clutched in her hand. Her father had always been her rock, the kind of man who believed in honesty and love. The kind of man who would have seen straight through someone like Erin, or even Kade.
With a deep breath, she unfolded the paper.
Her eyes scanned the words, her heart pounding. The handwriting was neat, deliberate. The message was brief but devastating.
"Ask him about the night of July 14th. Ask him why his father isn’t in prison."
Lanesra’s breath hitched. July 14th. Why did that date feel familiar?
She searched her mind, her pulse racing. It wasn’t Kade’s birthday. Not an anniversary. But there was something there, something just beyond her reach.
She turned to her father’s grave as if he could somehow give her the answers. “What does this mean?” she whispered.
A small voice interrupted her thoughts.
“Mom?”
She turned sharply, finding her son standing a few feet away, his small hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. His big, innocent eyes stared at her, full of curiosity and concern.
“How did you know I was here, sweetheart?” she asked, quickly folding the paper and tucking it into her jacket pocket.
“I saw your car outside,” he said, stepping closer. “You only come here when you’re really sad.”
Her heart clenched. This little boy knew her better than anyone. She forced a smile and opened her arms, and he rushed into them, pressing his face against her shoulder.
“I’m okay,” she murmured against his hair. “Just thinking about Grandpa.”
He nodded against her. “I wish I met him.”
“He would have loved you,” she whispered, holding him tighter.
Her mind, however, was spinning. She couldn’t let this note consume her. Not now. Not in front of her son. But she knew, deep in her bones, that she couldn’t ignore it either.
She pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes. “Do you want to hear about Grandpa?”
Her son nodded eagerly, sitting down beside her, legs crossed, mimicking her posture.
“Grandpa was the kind of man who always put his family first,” she began. “He worked hard every day to make sure we had everything we needed. But more than that, he was kind. He believed in helping people, even when it wasn’t easy.”
She smiled, remembering. “He had this way of making everything feel safe, like no matter what happened, he’d be there to catch you if you fell.”
Her son tilted his head. “Like you do for me?”
Lanesra’s heart ached with love. “Yeah, baby. Just like that.”
Her son thought for a moment before asking, “What happened to him?”
Lanesra hesitated, not wanting to darken the moment with the pain of loss. “He got sick,” she finally said. “And sometimes, no matter how strong someone is, they can’t stay forever.”
Her son leaned against her, staring at the headstone. “I think he’s still here,” he said softly. “Watching over you. Over us.”
Lanesra swallowed past the lump in her throat, pressing a kiss to his hair. “I think so too.”
For a moment, they sat in silence, comforted by the presence of the man who had shaped her life. But the note still burned in her pocket, the questions still demanding answers.
She had to talk to Kade. She had to know what happened on July 14th.
But she wasn’t sure if she was ready for the answer.
- Writer
