Booktree.ng_Forgotten-Witness

Reluctantly she closed the door, wandered to the center of
the room, cupped her hands over the back of the sofa, and
pushed up on to her toes as if to prove that standing taller
would make her stronger.
“I miss Max, too.”
“You are a collector of orphans,” Stephen answered.
“We’re two of a kind, Stephen.”
She settled on the rolled arm of the sofa, one leg crooked
and the other resting on the floor. When she spoke again she
sounded tired, as if she had climbed one too many mountains
and couldn’t face the next one.
“I have a professional history I’m not so proud of. When I
got to Hermosa Beach I was licking some pretty bad selfinflicted
wounds. It took a lot to reconstruct a life in a place I
love, with a man I love, and a dog, and the beach outside my
house. Then Hannah came and it was all good.” She chuckled.
“Sounds like a commercial, doesn’t it?”
“You’ve got everything but granny at the table,” he agreed.
She bit her lip, taking a moment to choose exactly the right
words. It wasn’t Stephen’s sympathy or absolution she wanted.
Josie wasn’t sure if she even wanted him to listen, she just
needed to speak the truth and try it on for size.
“I’m forty years old and I’m tired of having issues with my
parents. I think I’m done.”
“Criminey! That’s no good,” Stephen blustered. “You’re
still in a bit of shock. Not to mention your hand. Don’t forget
that little bit.”
Josie looked at the well-wrapped gauze, the neatly placed
clips. She could feel the skin pulling tight beneath. It was
healing. Healing always hurt.
“Curiosity is different than masochism. All I ever wanted
was for her to tell me why she left. I’ll never get the answer, so
why bother with all this?”