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I glance down at Truffles, watching as he discovers the first fallen leaves of the season rustling in the breeze. “A friend’s place. It’s temporary.”
I don’t mention it’s Knox’s place.
He’s suddenly out of town on assignment and offered me a safe spot to hunker down as I lick my wounds and figure out my next move.
When Riley vanished, he promised to keep tabs on her, too. But he’s become Fort Knox lately because he won’t say where she is or what she’s doing. Only that she’s safe and protected. Knowing that she might turn up at Knox’s place, I wanted to be here if she did.
“How are the girls holding up?” he asks, glancing at Sofie and Lili with a fond smile as they make faces at the shiny surface of Cloud Gate.
For years, I wondered why an artist would create a giant metal bean and plop it in the center of Millennium Park. Obviously, it was so little girls could have the time of their lives making silly faces and giggling like maniacs.
“Sofia and Lili have been having a blast at Camp Dory’s. Neutral territory. She’s a natural with them, and they love it there. They build sheet tents and pretend they’re at Hogwarts. Dory’s even turned her kitchen into a mini cooking school.”
“Is it as idyllic as it sounds?”
I exhale with a deep sigh. “It helps them sleep. They don’t like beds.” I pause, struggling to get the words out. “And Dory...she manages to soothe them better than Enzo and I ever could. Even when they wake up crying.”
“It’s hard,” he nods, deeply sympathetic.
“Cries are easier. When they wake up screaming, it rips our hearts right out of our chests. For whatever reason, they always go rushing to Dory.”
“I know it’s hard.” He sounds more than compassionate, like he’s lived it.
I shake my head. “It’s a relief. At least one of us can bring them comfort.”
“You’re all bringing them comfort in your own ways.”
I shrug. “We’re trying to make it work.”
“No,” Father Marc says calmly. “You are making it work, Kennedy. Working through trauma is like digging out of a tunnel with a spoon. Some days, you make great strides. Other days, it feels like you’re stuck in the same place. They’re lucky to have you all.”
“Especially Enzo.” My smile warms. “He reads to them every night, whether he’s here or not, though lately, mostly not. The miracle of FaceTime.”
For some reason, knowing he reads them all the Harry Potter books and does every last voice feels like a sliver of hope blooming in my chest.
I pause, feeling the weight of Father Marc’s gaze on me. He teeters into the subject carefully. “Did he ever respond to your message?”
He’s referring to my Can we talk? message. Shame and regret twist inside me like a knife. “Not a word,” is all I say.
Some days, I think he’ll text or call, and other days, he doesn’t. And then there are days when my finger hovers just over his name on the phone, but before I can dial, a riptide of guilt drags me under, instantly killing all my courage.
Father Marc nods, his eyes full of understanding. “It’s important to give yourself grace and time to heal, Kennedy. You’ve been through so much.”
“I held a gun to my husband while he defended me.” I shake my head, the memory stabbing at my insides. “I can’t face him.”
His elbow nudges me gently. “You’re braver than you think.”
The breeze kicks up, and I pull my sweater tighter and shiver. “Thank God Knox barged in when he did. I don’t know what would’ve happened if he hadn’t.”
Hands clutched behind his back, Father Marc stays quiet and contemplative. He has to be around Enzo’s age—maybe even younger.
Yet, there’s an air of wisdom about him—a depth that’s impossible to ignore. It’s as if he’s seen the darkest corners of the world and carries the weight of secrets and sins with a haunting grace, no matter how heavy the burden or how it torments him.
Truffles tugs on the leash, but my mind stays elsewhere. “What I don’t get is how Knox knew to barge in right when he did. Until the gun was in my hand, I didn’t even know.”
His expression shifts, a flicker of something familiar. Could it be...guilt?
Why would a man of the cloth feel guilty? He’s a living, breathing sanctuary of trust.
