Summer Skye was twelve the year Jane was born. This alone sent Jane on an online quest to find her. She spent much of the afternoon searching, but had no luck finding any trace of the missing girl.

She knew it was crazy to think Summer might be her biological mother. Yet she searched anyway. What if Jane's adoption had taken place among family? Summer was her adoptive mom's cousin, after all.

First cousin, twice removed.

She compared Liberty's picture to the scowling teen Jane suspected was her birth mother. There was, perhaps, a slight resemblance. Was this girl Liberty's granddaughter? Could this be why Jane's parents had had little contact with extended family? Had they distanced themselves from the cousins, afraid she'd be reclaimed by those with closer ties?

And then there was the money.

Genevieve and Vivian had conspired to send Jane a check upon the death of her parents. Genevieve's explanation that it was recompense for a long-ago favor now seemed suspect. A kind note would have sufficed to the granddaughter of the woman Genevieve wished to thank. Why send so much money? Why add Jane to her will and double the amount? Was it really out of generosity? Or another reason entirely—entitlement to an inheritance? Prett and Genevieve had once commented on her resemblance...to whom? Other than the girl in her own photo, Jane hadn't come across anyone with her features.

Jane rubbed her forehead and sighed. She could drive herself crazy with these wild speculations.

I should just ask Genevieve.

But would the matriarch give her a straight answer? If Jane had learned anything these past few weeks, it was that the old woman held her own fair share of secrets.

She stared at the stack of boxes along the wall. Somewhere in there lay John and Vivian's research into Catherine. Pushing aside her mental exhaustion, Jane picked a box from the stack and dived into the papers within.

*****

Two weeks later, Jane still hadn't found anything new. The box she'd picked had contained documents regarding the Montgomery-Westfall oil and lumber businesses. Prett declined the task of determining what should be saved and what should be shredded, saying George would be better suited for the job. Jane suspected he just wanted to avoid her. With the Reverend around every day, Jane didn't get a chance to ask Genevieve any discreet questions.

Now she sat alone in the office. Genevieve was down for her nap and George had left on errands. When the doorbell rang, Jane stood to answer, but Holly bounded down the front stairs and beat her to it. A man's voice inquired and Holly replied, their voices muffled through the office's closed French doors. Holly accepted a large envelope and wandered out of the foyer, reading the address.

Jane returned to her chair with disappointment. She'd once had money to order things online, too. She missed the frequent deliveries.

She lifted the lid off another box and flipped through the labels: Land Deeds. Crochet. 1966 Buick Riviera. 1978 Taxes. Open House.

Either Vivian had developed dementia in her later years or whoever had boxed up the files hadn't bothered to keep them in any semblance of order.

Mineral Rights. Mother's Funeral. John's Life Insurance. Catherine.

Catherine.

A sharp pain shot through Jane's stomach. She pulled out the slim file. Inside was a yellowed newspaper clipping announcing Catherine's marriage to John Montgomery, Sr. along with folded papers that turned out to be divorce pleadings and the final divorce decree. The remaining item was their wedding photo: Catherine pretty and smiling, John Sr. proud and stern.

Jane looked through the file again. She looked through the remaining files in the box. Nothing.

That's it? Just their marriage and divorce?

Surely this wasn't the extent of Vivian's research. Jane tossed the file on the table in frustration.

Another dead end.

The only one who could provide more information was Liberty.

Jane had received her own letter from her.

I regret not keeping in touch with your mother as well as I should after your grandmother passed. I suppose we were busy with our own lives. My husband and I attended your parents' funeral, but we were strangers to you. Perhaps you and I can get acquainted now.

Jane hoped so, too. If for no other reason than to belong to a family again.

She rolled her shoulders to ease her stiff back. She needed a break.

The house was quiet when she entered the foyer. Too quiet. The back of her neck tingled. Something was wrong. She hurried to Genevieve's bedroom and peeked in the door. Several seconds passed before she saw the steady rise and fall of the old woman's chest. Jane eased the door shut.

Holly.

That's what was out of place. Holly filled her days with busywork: cooking, cleaning and the like. One only needed to follow the sound of Christian praise songs to find her. But no music wafted through the house now. In its place lay an eerie silence. Jane walked to the empty kitchen, listening.

There.

The slightest sound. A whimper. Coming through the air vent.

The basement.

Jane made her way downstairs. She found Holly sitting on a sofa, her head in her hands.

Crying.

Jane rushed over and lay a hand on her shoulder. "What's wrong!"

Holly startled and shrank away until she recognized Jane. With an embarrassed half-laugh, she wiped away her tears, hiccupping her last sobs. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice high-pitched.

"Don't be sorry." Jane sat beside her and draped an arm around her shoulders. "What's going on?" Only then did she notice the papers on Holly's lap.

Holly fluttered her hands over them. "Lee's divorcing me. I should have expected it. But not today." She collapsed into new sobs, shaking her head, her hands covering her face.

Jane removed her arm, a surge of anger bubbling up in her chest. "He should be in prison! For what he did to you. And me." Jane's ankle twinged at the memory. "I'm still mad the county attorney made that plea deal. I wanted my day in court!" Jane opened her mouth to say more, but thought better of it. Holly didn't need to hear her righteous indignation.

After a long minute, Holly regained control of her emotions. She wiped her nose with the back of her hand, sniffling. "P.J. wants me to file charges in Colorado. But...I don't know."

"You should."

Holly nodded, her eyes focused on the papers in her lap. "He always knows how to hurt me." She slid the manilla envelope from under the documents and held it up for Jane to read the scrawled words on the front.

Happy Anniversary

Holly stuck the envelope back under the documents and sniffled again. "Ten years today. Ten years of..." She sighed. "It wasn't always bad. In the beginning..." She shook her head. "But I stayed too long." Her voice was quiet and unsteady. "P.J. tried so many times to..." She swiped away the tears running down her cheeks. "I was thinking...how different it would have been if..." She bent the corner of the envelope down and up. Down and up. "If I had listened to him from the start." Holly let out a deep sigh and sank into the cushions. "I wouldn't be sitting here in abject misery then." She added in a whisper. "I've been a fool."

"We've all made mistakes when it comes to men," Jane said softly.

"I've made three," Holly replied.

"Three?"

She gave a nod. "Lee. Mistake number two." She turned to Jane, her eyes red and sad. "P.J. Mistake number one."

Jane scrunched her eyebrows. "Prett? A mistake?"

"For not marrying him when he asked." Holly looked away to stare at the bookshelves lining the far wall.

Jane leaned back in shock. "Prett? Prett asked you to marry him?"

Holly took another deep breath and let it out with a half-hearted laugh. "Yeah. Crazy, right? I had just found out I was pregnant. Literally. I still had the test stick in my hand." She curled her fingers as though she held it now. "I was scared. Scared to tell my parents. Scared to tell Lee. And ashamed. He'd pressured me into having sex and when I finally did, he stopped calling. P.J. was glad. He never liked Lee. He was happy I'd gotten dumped. I didn't tell him...why.

"He found me, crying in the bathroom." Holly took in a quavering breath. "Saw the test strip. Asks me if it's Lee's. Asks if he knows yet. Tells me not to tell him. 'Don't fix one mistake with a worse one,' he says. 'How is it a mistake to marry the father of my baby?' I ask. And he says, 'I doubt he'll marry you.'"

Holly scowled. "That made me so mad. He sounded like Adair. My perfect sister, always so pious. Telling me I was too stupid to pick a decent man. 'You think I'm better off a single mom?'" I said. 'That my baby doesn't have a daddy?' And he says, 'Marry me. I'll be the daddy.'"

Holly's tone quieted. "Now I look back and see...why he offered that. I understand now. I couldn't then. I was too blinded by my own shame and fear. 'No one would believe you're the daddy,' I said, not even caring how it might hurt him." Holly let out a wry laugh. "And he says, 'Why wouldn't they? Your bedroom's right next to mine.' And I said, 'So you're going to let—'"

"Wait, what?" Jane interrupted. "Your bedroom was next to Prett's?"

"Yeah. In the apartment."

"The apartment? What apartment?"

"In Lincoln."

Jane stared at her. Holly stared back. "You—you lived with Prett?" Jane asked. "In Lincoln?"

"Yeah. He never mentioned it?"

"No."

"Oh. Well, yeah. When I was at UNL. I lived at home for the first couple years. Then I had to get away from my parents, so I moved in with some other girls. But they were more interested in partying than studying. P.J., Tommy, and Danny lived in the same complex, so I went there to study. Then nine-eleven happened and Danny reenlisted. That was a scary time. I spent most days at their place and a few nights, too." Holly twisted her lips. "The threat of war just intensified my roommates' partying. P.J. didn't like the kind of guys that showed up. Called it a rape haven. He told me to move into Danny's room permanently or he'd tell my parents. That's how I ended up living with them."

"I had no idea."

Holly let out a rueful laugh. "Neither did my parents. They found out when P.J. and Tommy came for Easter dinner. Prett realized I hadn't told them, so he did. Dad was so mad. At all of us. He wanted me to move back home right then and there. But P.J. talked to my mom, and she convinced Dad to leave it be. So I kept living with them."

"What did Prett say to convince your mom?"

Holly shrugged her reply. "I was glad, though. I couldn't live at home. Too stifling. And Tommy was a great study partner." She cast her eyes to the papers in her lap. "We spent a lot of time together. Studying. Doing art. We talked about opening an art studio-interior design business after we graduated." She smiled. "That seems a lifetime ago."

Once again Jane felt lost. "After 'we' graduated? Was Tommy—Val—in college, too?"

Holly looked at her. "Of course. Do they not tell you anything? He graduated with a bachelor's in interior design. Though before that he studied at Penn State. Landscape Architecture. Didn't finish. Decided to switch majors after moving to Nebraska."

Jane shook her head. Val is educated. "I didn't know any of this."

"Well, it was hard to communicate with him when he wasn't speaking. I'm glad he is now. Danny, too."

"Do you know why Tommy stopped speaking?"

Holly shook her head and returned her focus to the document in her lap. They sat in silence a few moments. Jane recalled Prett's comment about Holly's marriage.

I tried to stop her. Practically got on my knees and begged.

Holly's revelation put an entirely new spin on that. Jane shook her head in amazement. "He asked you to marry him."

"Yeah." Holly sighed.

"How long had he been divorced by then?"

She looked at Jane with confusion. "He wasn't. He got married after I did."

Now it was Jane's turn to be confused. "I thought he was married first."

"No. After. Barely lasted six months."

"He told me five years!"

Holly paused a moment. "Oh! You mean P.J. I thought you meant Tommy."

"No, not Tommy. I wondered how long Prett had been divorced when he asked you to marry him."

Once again Holly wrinkled her brows. "But he didn't get divorced."

Jane's eyes grew big in alarm. "You meant he was still married? When he asked you?"

"No." Holly's face softened. "Jane. His wife died."

"Died!" The shock reverberated through Jane's chest. It couldn't be true. The image of Prett sobbing in the theater room flashed through Jane's mind. "When!"

"About...twelve, thirteen years ago. That's why they came to Nebraska."

"Twelve? But..." Jane shook her head, trying to remember what Prett had said about his wife and children.

They're in Kentucky. With their mother.

"What about his kids? Where are they?"

"Oh, Jane," Holly murmured. She covered Jane's hand with her own. "It was a car accident. They died, too."

Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Please help me improve my writing by pointing out problems. And if you like what you read, please click the Vote button below. And comment! I love comments! 😊

Fun Fact 1: So I have known since the beginning of this story Prett's wife and children are dead. Holly explains more in the following chapter along with tons of shocking revelations that add context to things we've already learned... 😁 Jane owes Prett one huge apology... 

Fun Fact 2: I tried to think of what Vivian would name folders in her filing cabinet. I picked a few that sounded reasonable, then went to my own filing cabinet to look at (now empty) folders my mom had labeled. That's how I came up with "Open House" and "Crochet."  😉

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