Carolina

PROLOGUE A gray SUV pulls into a driveway, rolling forward until it stops at the log cabin at the end of the stone path. A brunette woman climbs out of the driver’s seat, clutching a box under her left arm. Another woman, a couple of decades younger, opens the passenger door, steps out into the sunlight, and looks up at the house. Her older brother follows suit and meets up with his mother and sister. They start up the steps to the porch where the swing creaks, swaying slightly forward and back in the breeze. Their mother opens the front door and the three of them step inside the quiet house. “You guys hang out in here for a minute. I’ll be right back,” their mom says. They sit in the living room on the couch and look around the room while their mother climbs the steps to the second floor. She strolls down the hallway and stops in front of the door at the end. A nameplate reading Rebecca is affixed to the front of the door. She turns the handle and steps in. The girl’s room is still decorated, set off by a perfectly made bed and a mountain of pillows. Rebecca walks around the room and smiles at the posters that still manage to cling to the wall. She chuckles at the largest one, a close-up of the cutest singer who, at fifteen years old, she swore she would marry. A line of dusty trophies stands on top of the dresser next to the window. She pulls the curtain back just enough and stares out to the beautiful tree-line on the far side of the water. Taking a deep breath, she steps back, exhales, and sits on the edge of the bed. Her hand grasps the closest pillow and pulls it into her chest before hugging it tightly. “Mom?” her daughter calls from downstairs. “Yes, honey?” “Are you coming?” “I’ll be right down,” she reassures her. She looks up at the ceiling, then to the door. Her palms rest on her quivering knees for a moment, then she walks out the door.