The rest became restitution Daniel would owe for years.
No sentence could return the birthdays I missed.
No judgment could erase the hours Emily spent believing I had chosen not to love her.
But the truth was finally written somewhere stronger than stone.
After the trial, Emily and I returned to Maple Ridge Cemetery together.
The marker had been removed under a court order and was lying on wooden supports near the maintenance shed.
My name was still listed beneath hers as her mother.
Emily walked around it slowly.
“That’s where you used to sit?”
I pointed to the patch of grass beneath the old oak.
“Every Sunday.”
“What did you talk about?”
“Everything.
Pancakes.
Weather.
You.”
She looked at me with tears in her eyes.
“I used to talk to you too.
Mostly when nobody was listening.”
We left the stone behind.
At home, we planted lavender beside the porch because Emily said Kroger flowers had spent enough time dying for us.
Nora and Caleb came to help.
Caleb dug holes too deep, and Emily laughed at him until he threatened to bury the entire watering can.
That laugh stopped me in the doorway.
For years, I had carried the sound of cemetery wind as the last thing connecting me to my daughter.
Now there was music playing from her bedroom.
Captain Bun sat on her pillow.
Her purple backpack leaned against the kitchen chair.
The grave had been empty.
My home was not.
