Page 83 of Veil of Silence

Maybe Dad had reason to be worried.

Christian returning to them was a blessing . . . but even blessings could add a measure of stress. She knew with time, things would get easier. But they weren’t there yet.

She stepped closer and put her hand on his shoulder. “You should go home.”

“I’m staying.” His tone was quiet but final.

“You don’t have to. We’re fine.”

“I know.” Dad let the curtain fall into place. “But if somebody comes up that driveway tonight, I’d rather be here.”

Nora could have reminded him that she’d lived in this house alone for years.

She didn’t. Everyone just wanted to do what they could to help.

Instead, Nora checked the other doors before saying good night and heading upstairs. She had reached the landing when her mother’s bedroom door opened.

Mom came down carrying a folded quilt.

Nora stopped where the hallway shadows hid her and watched as her mother entered the living room. Dad had stretched out on the couch with one arm over his eyes.

“You’ll freeze without this,” Mom said.

“I was going to get one.”

“I’ve got you.”

Mom spread the quilt over him. Her hand lingered on his chest before she seemed to realize what she was doing.

Dad covered her fingers with his, and neither of them spoke.

Nora looked away and slipped upstairs before they noticed her.

She wanted to believe something good could grow from everything their family had endured. But wanting that for her parents was easier than believing it for herself. She’d never thought she deserved to be happy—instead, she’d thought of her role as making sure everyone else was happy and taken care of.

Chapter

Thirty-Two

Darkness had settled over the lake when Austin returned to the Whistling Pines Motel.

The motel sat between the town square and the water, its exterior designed to resemble an oversized log cabin. Warm light glowed behind the lobby windows, and flower boxes hung beneath the railing that wrapped around the second floor.

Under different circumstances, the place might have felt peaceful.

Tonight, two news vans were parked near the square. A reporter stood beneath a streetlight speaking into a camera as Austin turned into the motel lot.

He caught the words missing child before switching off the engine.

Austin climbed out and headed toward the exterior staircase. He’d nearly reached it when footsteps sounded behind him.

“Agent Donnelly?”

He stopped.

The reporter hurried across the parking lot with a cameraman following close behind. The bright light mounted above the camera forced Austin to squint.

“Is it true your father investigated Christian Loveless’s disappearance?” she asked.