Page 109 of Finding Noah

And I hoped he'd been as lucky as me.

I hoped he'd turned out okay.

***

“So, you didn't find anything?” Meg asked.

I paced from one side of the patio to the other, completely unfazed by the surrounding headstones, as I shook my head.

“Nada,” I muttered. “The funeral-home guys weren't helpful, and I cannot for the life of me find any fucking trace of Benjamin, Benny, Ben … nothing. The guy's as much of a ghost as his father.”

I lifted my eyes to the blackened sky and the endless expanse of stars twinkling above. The moon was high, looking down on me in this graveyard, and I found an odd comfort in knowing that, from where it hung, it could also see my house in River Canyon. It knew where Meg was, it knew she was okay, and for one silly moment, I imagined it was watching over her, protecting her, until I got home.

Soon.

“I mean …” Meg hesitated for a moment, as if to carefully select her words. “I don't wanna say it, but … maybe he is.”

“What? A ghost?”

“Think about it. Think about the life his father was leading. You don't know that his son didn't get mixed up in the same mess.”

“No, I guess not,” I conceded, walking over the patio again to drop into one of the two plastic lawn chairs. “I just wish I could've said something to him.”

“I know,” she replied, her tone sympathetic.

“I keep thinking about what he must've seen that night,” I said, dropping my voice to a whisper, not wanting Aunt Stormy or Charlie to hear. “Like … God, I know what I felt that night, and I know what I felt when Seth came to us with a fucking gun in his hand, but I wasn't alone. You know? I had Seth, for whatever it’s worth, and then I had Dad. I had him telling me what to do, and then …” I swallowed, wiping a hand over my mouth. “And then I had you.”

I closed my eyes to touch base with that kid, the younger version of myself, running through the thunder and rain. Listening to the voice of an angel while the devil invaded our home.

Benjamin hadn't had that the night his father was taken from him.

“Who did he have?” I asked, knowing she didn't have the answer. “What did he do?”

“I don't know, baby,” Meg replied softly. “And maybe the reason you can't find him is because it'd be better if you never knew.”

I swallowed to wet my throat as I considered the sentiment. “Maybe you're right,” I choked out.

Abruptly, she laughed as she sniffled, and I realized she was on the verge of tears herself. “And I swear I'm not saying that because I want you to come home. I mean, I do, but I also just … I know this is going to eat away at you, and I understand why, but, God, Noah, imagine how terrible it'd be if you found out he'd lived a horrible life. I can't imagine what that'd do to you, the survivor's guilt that would cause, and I need you.”

I nodded continually as she spoke until she was finished, and I said, “I know. And you're right. I know you're right. So, I'm gonna—”

“I'm pregnant.” She blurted the words out, and on impulse, I sprang to my feet, clutching my hand to my forehead, my nerves vibrating beneath my skin.

“What?” Holy hell, I wasn't aware my voice could reach that high of a note.

Meghan laughed through a shuddering sob. “Oh my God, I didn't mean to say that now. I-I-I was going to wait until you were home, b-but I just … I just said it.”

“You're pregnant?” I squinted my eyes, still unsure I'd heard her correctly.

“I am,” she replied, the words whispered through a smile and countless tears.

“You're sure?”

“I'm sure.” She released a sigh. “I have an appointment with the OB-GYN in a couple of weeks, but I took, like, four pregnancy tests last night and this morning, and every single one of them is positive.”

I was too scared to be hopeful. Too scared to believe it. We'd gotten our hopes up before, and what if … what if it was wrong? What if every one of those tests had been expired or broken or—

“What about false positives?” I asked, thrusting my hand into my hair.