Two officers were standing under the porch.
« Madam, we need to speak to a certain Mrs. Layla, » said one of them.
Layla’s eyes scanned the room, panic seized her. My father stepped forward, his shoulders square, his voice trembling but steady.
« I called them, » he said. « Someone had to do it. »
« Dad, please— »
He cut her off.
Two officers were standing under the porch.
My sister closed her eyes, took a breath, and nodded. « Okay. »
Bill stepped towards me, and I put my arm around him. « It’s going to be okay, » I whispered.
An officer turned to Bill. « We’ll need your statement. »
Bill nodded, glancing at Layla, then at me.
Layla’s gaze met mine, full of supplication. « Megan— »
I shook my head. « You will tell the truth. That’s all that remains to be done. »
« We’re reopening your case, son. »
Layla followed them quietly, glancing back once at the family she had broken up.
When the door closed, the silence was enormous. My father sank into the sofa, his head in his hands. My mother stared at the empty space where Layla had been standing.
Bill stood in the hallway, his hands trembling.
« Were you really looking for trouble? » he asked in a low voice.
I nodded, tears sliding down my face. « Every day. »
« Why didn’t you give up? »
« Were you really looking for trouble? »
I moved closer, my hand brushing against his shoulder. « Because you are my son. »
He nodded and let me pull him towards him. He was taller than me now, broad-shouldered, nothing like the little boy I’d last held in my kitchen doorway. But when his arms encircled me, something inside me recognized him instantly.
Fifteen years could not be undone in a single instant.
And as I held it, I felt the old locket pressed between us, and for the first time in fifteen years, I finally felt that it had done its job.
« Because you are my son »
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