Chapter 5 - THE SCREEN IN THE SUNLIGHT
Everett pressed both hands flat against the gas tank of his Harley, his head hanging low between his shoulders, his breath coming in ragged, painful hitches. His dark, swept-back hair fell forward, shadowing his eyes.
"She lived..." he repeated, the words tasting like ash and gold on his tongue. "All these years... twelve years... I thought I was alone..."
Junie looked up at him, her little eyebrows pulled together in profound concern. She wriggled her hand free from Claire’s grip, stepped up to Everett’s leg, and gently patted his dusty riding boot.
"Don't cry, Bear," Junie said softly. "Emily is nice."
Everett slowly raised his head. His eyes were bloodshot, rimmed with red, brimming with unshed tears that glinted under the low sun. He looked at Claire with a fierce, desperate hunger.
"Where is she?" Everett demanded. "Where is my girl? Take me to her!"
Claire’s expression darkened, a profound sorrow creeping across her features. She pulled her heavy shoulder bag around to her front and unzipped the main compartment.
"She passed away two years ago, Everett," Claire said quietly, using his name for the first time. "A car accident in Denver. She left us... but she left behind memories. And she left Junie."
The second blow hit Everett like a sledgehammer to the chest. He closed his eyes, a single heavy tear carving a path through the dust on his cheek. His daughter was gone—truly gone this time—but she had lived. She had grown up, loved, and left a child behind.
Claire reached into her bag and pulled out a sleek, modern smartphone.
"I don't have many old paper photos with me," Claire said, her voice soft and compassionate. "But I saved her entire digital album when we went through her apartment."
Claire tapped the glass screen, unlocked the device, and scrolled through a private folder. She turned the screen toward Everett, angling it away from the bright glare of the setting sun so he could see it clearly.
May you like
The audience, standing off to the side, could see only the dark matte back of the phone and the reflection of the desert light on its edges. The photograph itself remained completely hidden.
Everett took a slow, trembling step forward. He leaned down, his bloodshot eyes focusing on the small, glowing display.
