Page 125 of Coordinates of Death

Aurora tensed. “What development?”

“A confession from a local loan shark from his deathbed. He confessed to killing Anna. Claims it was an accident. He hadn’t meant to do it. Yada yada. You know the drill.”

Aurora stilled. Her sister’s kidnapping and murder was finally solved after all these years? “You’re confident this male told the truth?”

“Yes. We cross-referenced the prints found at the scene that we could never identify. They’re a match.”

Aurora exhaled slowly. Closure.

Finally.

“Thank you, Constable Redmon. I appreciate you letting me know.”

“Of course. Take care.” He ended the call.

Her father’s earlier saddened expression entered her mind. She had to right her wrong. Aurora selected him from her contact list and waited for him to pick up.

“Hello.” His groggy voice revealed she had woken him.

“Sorry for waking you, Dad, but I had to talk to you right away.”

“It’s okay. I’m glad you called. I’ve been trying to reach you.”

Aurora tightened her grip on the phone. “I’m sorry, sorry for a lot of things. I have news you’ll want to hear.”

“Oh?”

She shared what Constable Redmon had revealed about Pam Hunt’s grave.

“The nerve of someone to do such a thing.”

“Dad, there’s more.” She told him about the loan shark’s confession.

Her father’s soft sigh sailed through the phone. “That monster is finally dead.”

Kordell’s earlier comments about Sebastian’s death surfaced. She understood. Both men had gotten away with their horrifying acts for too long. “I get it. I’m also glad we finally have closure.” Her mother’s forgiving words surfaced, and she chewed on her lip, gathering her words carefully. “Dad, I’m sorry for my earlier reaction. We need to put the past behind us and move forward. But to do that, I need to ask you for your forgiveness.”

“Oh, sweet girl . . .” His broken words faltered, revealing his emotion. “It’s me who needs your forgiveness. I’m sorry. My gambling broke our family apart—literally. Can you forgive me?”

“I do, Dad. You’re the only family I have left. I can’t lose you too.”

“You won’t. I love you.”

“Love you too. Get some rest. Night.”

“Night, sweet girl.”

Her father’s endearing words brought another wave of tears. Aurora’s fingers fumbled as she set the phone on her nightstand, knocking the journal onto the floor. She leaned down to scoop it up and saw a picture that had slipped out. How had she missed that? It must have been stuck to a page.

Aurora set the journal on the bed and examined the photo. A boy and girl, around the age of six, stood in front of a massive brick house. The girl smiled up at the boy, hand on her hip. Something about her smile and body language felt familiar. She nabbed her phone and snapped a picture of it and the symbol with the initials, texting them to Kordell before calling him.

“Hey, Rory. You okay?”

“Let’s just say it’s been an interesting evening.” She shared about the picture. “I just sent it to you. Something is familiar to me, but I’m not sure what.”

“I’m looking at it now. Do you recognize the children?”

“Not really. I realize it’s late, but can you come over? I need to talk to you about what else I found out tonight.” Plus, she wanted to tell him in person that she forgave him.