Geneva was startled by the uncharacteristically serious look on her daughter’s face. “M-Madge, what’s wrong?”
“Come here, Mom, Dad—let’s sit down and talk.”
The two of them followed her to the couch, concern etched on their faces.
“Norris, Anne—you two should hear this too,” Madge added.
Father and daughter exchanged a glance before obediently taking their seats.
Roseanne glanced anxiously at her mother. “Mom, what is it?”
Madge took a slow breath. “I’d remembered most things about the past already. Even if there were gaps, the memories have come back, piece by piece. But there was one thing I could never recall—how I disappeared that night, how I ended up in Pinehollow, and how I fell into the river… Until yesterday.”
Yesterday?
New Year’s Eve?
Neely’s eyes sharpened. “What happened yesterday?”
Word by word, Madge said, “I remember everything now.”
“Who was it?” someone whispered.
Madge’s voice was steady, unflinching. “Kathleen.”
There was no self-righteous pretense, no martyr’s forgiveness. Her parents had searched for her for over twenty years—they deserved the truth.
She’d hesitated, of course. Last night, she’d barely slept. Part of her feared the truth might be too much for her parents to bear—what if something happened to them? On the other hand, with no real evidence, would anyone believe her?
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