He smiled, but it was shaky and sad. “She taught you well… your mother.”
I swallowed hard. “Why are you dressed like… that?”
Eli looked down at the lilies in his hand.
My heart raced. “She’s gone.”
“I know. I know she is.”
My heart thudded so loudly I could barely hear him say the next part.
“I tried to find you after the funeral, Abby,” he said. “Didn’t want to intrude. But I needed you to know something. Something your mom asked me not to tell you until I could prove I wasn’t just a guy in a corner anymore.”
I didn’t know what scared me more. Or what he knew or what he was about to say.
We sat down on the hard plastic chairs near the dryers. The air smelled of fresh laundry and old floors.
Eli placed the lilies beside him like they were breakable.
Then quietly, he said, “Do you remember getting lost at the county fair when you were little?”
A chill crawled up my spine.
I nodded slowly. “I thought I’d imagined that.”
“You didn’t.” He paused. “You ran up to me crying. I was just walking by the rides.”
I blinked. “A cop found me.”