At least Marshall Landish’s name had been cleared, his sister given the peace of his vindication.
She thought of the ways in which humans could be filled with both terrible evil and such enduring love. Unspeakable violence and astonishing gentleness. Blame and grace. Her fingers went unconsciously to the scar she wore on her thigh, the declaration of her guilt. It no longer shamed her. She had been guilty. But not because she was evil or bad. Because she’d been hurt. Because she’d wanted so desperately to be loved, that she’d forsaken her own pride. Her own sense of right and wrong. The same as Charles Hartsman, and yet so vastly different.
Who is to blame? That was the question. And Josie’s heart had found peace in the answer.
Put simply: All of us.
All of us are to blame. For fighting to move on rather than lashing out, for choosing to stand up over and over again after we colla
pse, for working to heal the broken parts of ourselves so the shards don’t wound the world.
Her belly tightened again, stronger this time, longer, and she suppressed a moan. Yes, this baby girl was coming. She blew out a slow breath, soaking in the final moments when the life inside was only hers. The dwindling hours that their hearts would beat as one.
The screen door squeaked as Zach stepped out onto the porch, handing her a cold glass of tea. He sat beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “It’s time,” she finally told her husband, turning her gaze to his indigo eyes, laughing at his sudden alarm.
It was time to meet the little person who would start their family. A baby girl who would know the deep love of both parents, the indulgent adoration of grandparents, the doting love of an aunt, uncle, and cousins, and hopefully, a life of peace where she felt secure and strong, ready to face all that life threw her way.
Zach helped her stand and then ran inside to grab her bag. Josie smiled, turning toward the lowering sun as she waited. She had lived and breathed so many days and nights for the hope of seeing once again, a wide-open sky, the proof that her long hours of lonely darkness had ended. And now there it was in front of her, stretched just as far as the eye could see.