Chapter 8 - The Truth Behind the Midnight Walk
We left the courthouse through the side entrance away from the local news reporters who had gathered near the steps.
By six o'clock that evening, the story broke on the county news: Gregory Ross arrested on charges of first-degree murder, evidence tampering, and child endangerment. Brenda Vance held as an accessory after the fact.
The air was clear and crisp as the sun set behind the mountains, casting long golden light across the valley.
When we got back to the workshop, the quiet felt different. The heavy, dark cloud that had hung over my brother's memory for three long months was finally gone. Brennan hadn't given up on life. He hadn't abandoned his little girl. He had fought to protect her until his final breath, and now the world knew the truth.
Hollis sat on the low cedar bench I had built for her next to my welding table. She was eating a slice of warm apple pie that Naira had bought her on the way home, her little legs swinging back and forth.
I pulled up a stool and sat beside her.
"Hollis?"
"Yeah, Uncle Cass?" she asked, wiping a smudge of crust off her cheek with her sleeve.
"Do you remember the night you walked here?"
She stopped swinging her legs and looked down at her shoes—a new pair of sturdy red sneakers I had bought her two days ago. She nodded once, slowly.
"Mommy was crying because Greg was yelling," she whispered softly. "Greg said if I stayed in the house, the police would come and take the land away. He wrote on that piece of paper and told me to hold it tight."
"Did Greg walk you to the road?"
"No," Hollis said, her green eyes looking directly into mine. "Greg put me in the truck and drove me to the bottom of the hill near your driveway. But he told me if I came back, he'd lock the door."
A quiet lump formed in my throat.
She hadn't walked three miles through the dark woods alone—Greg had driven her near my gate, dumped her in the rain like trash, and left her to walk the final stretch in the dark, hoping the cold night and the forged paper would force me to take her without asking questions.
"He told me nobody wanted me," she murmured, a small tear rolling down her cheek. "He said I didn't have a spot anymore."
I reached out and pulled my brother's daughter into my arms, hugging her close against my chest. Her small arms wrapped tightly around my neck, her hands clutching the collar of my shirt.
"You have a spot right here," I told her, my voice thick with emotion. "This whole place is yours. The workshop, the timberland, the stars on the ceiling—everything. You're never going away again."
"Is Daddy happy now?" she whispered into my shoulder.
May you like
I looked out the workshop door toward the ridge where the sun was dipping below the tree line, illuminating the tall green pines that Brennan had sworn to protect for her.
"Yeah, sweet pea," I said gently. "Daddy is very happy."
