Booktree.ng_Forgotten-Witness

coming in the only way she knew how. She tried again to
engage him.
“When you said you know where she is, did you mean
Hannah? If you know where Hannah is, please tell me.”
Josie stood still, overly aware of her height, the broadness
of her shoulders, the boyish hair that left her neck bare to the
cold, the heels on her shoes that made her taller than Ian
Francis. In the face of this man’s serenity, Josie felt
diminished.
“I don’t understand what you’ve given me.” She withdrew
one plastic bag from her pocket. “Show me the way. She’s like
a daughter.”
Josie barely whispered the last word, but it was the one Ian
Francis heard. His head fell forward, and his shoulders drew
up as if a great weight had been lifted. When he raised his face
again he was transformed and he was beautiful. From the
corner of his eye, a tear fell and tracked his cheek. He let it go,
either unaware of it or relieved to finally let it fall.
“You didn’t lie, did you?” Josie whispered.
“No, my girl,” he said back. “My girl.”
Ian Francis stepped toward her. Josie trembled with an
emotion more profound and unnameable than anything she
had ever experienced. He lifted his arms, but she was not
afraid. He took one more step, but she did not recoil. He
embraced her, but she didn’t resist because his touch was
sweet and familiar. It seemed as if he had held her this way
before. Her cheek met his. His skin was warm; the stubble of
his beard was surprisingly soft. A car drove by on the street
below. Somewhere someone screamed in anger. Josie only
heard the sound of Ian Francis’ breathing. He cupped the back
of her head with one palm. A second passed and then two.
When the third ticked away he stepped back, took Josie’s face
in both his hands, and looked at her as if he could look at her
for eternity.
Reverently, Ian Francis kissed Josie Bates.