A noise behind me made me spin around. “Linc, I was…” My voice trailed off at the sight of Gerry in the doorway.
“Where is he?” I asked, my voice trembling.
“He left a couple of hours ago. His father came to get him. He said it was an emergency.”
“Did he-did he leave anything?”
He handed me an envelope. “I found all this. Sorry, Sunny.”
I could only nod, holding the thick envelope to my chest. Gerry left and I stumbled to the bed, tearing at the flap, knowing the explanation Linc left me inside of it would help calm the anxiety I was feeling.
Three things fell from the envelope. The cell phone that matched mine fell into my lap, smashed to pieces, and my unease grew. A strip of the leather cuff I had given him followed next. I held up the frayed piece, confused. It had obviously been yanked off, and I wondered where the rest of it was. The last thing was an uneven, crumpled, torn piece of notepaper with his writing, dark and deeply imprinted into the fibers.
I’m sorry.
forget about me.
5
Linc
Ten years later
I adjusted my tie, frowning in the mirror as my hands shook. It was ridiculous to be nervous. Today was the last item to be checked off the list, and then my past would be locked away where it should be. The past.
I sat down at the island in my kitchen and picked up my coffee.
“Can I get you anything, Lincoln? A bagel or perhaps something more substantial?”
“No thanks, Mrs. Ellis. Coffee is fine.” I smiled at my housekeeper. She was still new and getting to know the place and me. “I rarely eat breakfast.”
She clucked, wiping down the counter. “At least you eat the meals I leave you—sometimes.”
I chuckled and held out my cup for a refill, then headed into my office. I looked out the window at the city below me, a strange ache in my chest pushing at me.
I glanced at my watch, knowing I had to go, and dreading it.
&n
bsp; But it was time.
The last time I would ever face the memory of my father.
The streets were still quiet when I pulled my car into Mission Cove. I was early, my lawyer not arriving until ten, and without conscious thought, I drove to the east end of town, pulling up in front of a place that used to feel like home.
The small house was gone now, replaced as most of those in the neighborhood were, with newer, larger homes. Mission Cove had prospered in the past three years, and I had made sure all areas were developed. My father would roll over in his grave if he knew how his money was being used.
That thought alone was the one thing that brought a tight smile to my face.
I kept driving.
The deserted campground was now a playground for children, with a picnic area for families. It was well maintained, with safe equipment and a pool for the hot summers. It had been aptly named The Sunny Place. I blinked at the onslaught of emotions that threatened to engulf me as memories I kept locked away attempted to break through. I shook my head and pulled away, knowing the entire day was going to be the same.
One sad, aching reminder of all I had lost.
In town, the streets were clean, a few stores already open and getting ready for the day. Tourist season hadn’t hit yet, but as always, there would be some travelers around. Most of the old businesses were gone, replaced by newer ones. But the diner was still there, although it had been upgraded and modernized. Around the corner, the animal shelter had a newer, larger building completely subsidized by an anonymous donor. They never had to worry about it being shut down again.
I parked the car and looked up. My father’s house still stood on the hill, overlooking the town. The sun bounced off the windows, reflecting the light in a thousand directions—the only light that house ever had to it. That would change after today.