Chapter 7 - The Front Porch Again

Two weeks later, I stood on my parents’ porch with Sheriff Daniels and a county investigator.
The house looked smaller now.
The blue shutters needed paint. The ceramic angel had been knocked over during the search and lay sideways beside the mailbox. The curtains were open for the first time since I came home, but the rooms behind them looked stripped, emptied of secrets one drawer at a time.
My parents were not there.
Dad was being held pending hearings. Mom had been released under conditions and was staying with her sister in Dayton, telling anyone who would listen that she had been manipulated too. Some people believed her. Some people always need the mother to be less guilty because otherwise their own memories become less comfortable.
I walked through the living room slowly.
There were photographs on the wall. Caroline, my cousin, at prom. My parents at church events. My father holding a fishing trophy. My mother smiling beside Pastor Ray. None of me after age eighteen.
Not one.
In my old bedroom, the walls had been repainted beige. The closet held Christmas decorations and boxes of old tax files. My childhood had been converted into storage before I ever came home.
On the bed, Sheriff Daniels placed a clear evidence bag containing the letters my parents had refused. Not all of them. Copies. The originals were part of the case now.
I touched the plastic gently.
“I kept wondering why they never answered.”
The investigator said nothing.
Good.
I did not need comfort from strangers who had the decency not to improvise it.
Outside, Mr. Greer waited by his truck. Mrs. Ellis stood across the street with a casserole she had no idea how to offer. Pastor Ray had sent a message asking to meet. I had not replied yet.
When I stepped off the porch, the reporter from the local station was there again, camera lowered this time.
“No ambush,” she said. “Only if you want.”
I looked down the street where people had watched me arrive as a criminal and leave as something they did not yet know how to name.
May you like
Then I nodded.
This time, I was ready.