“Are you ready to go home now, Cady?”

Cady looked around. The bartender winked at her. In spite of herself, she grinned. She turned back to Boomer. “I’m not sure where I belong, Boomer. Where is home?”

“You know what my mother told me. She said home is wherever your stuff is. I think she’s right. I don’t know how much stuff you have, but I don’t have a lot. I’m willing to share my space with you.

“Cady, what are you going to do?”

Cady looked into Boomer’s eyes. “Nothing. All I wanted was to remember that time in my life so I could move forward. The past is gone. I don’t know about you, but I sure don’t want it back. You’re all safe. None of you had a thing to worry about where I was concerned. We could all have saved ourselves so much angst if we’d just gotten together to talk it through. I hope Amy recovers. I want your promise, and I don’t care that you’re the police chief, that you will never tell anyone what Amy did. I want Andy and Pete’s promise, too.”

“You have my word, Cady, and I don’t think you have to worry about getting theirs, too.”

“And you have mine, Boomer. I think I’m ready to leave now.”

“We’ll have to walk over to the station so I can pick up my car.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Henry,” she said to the bartender. The serpent wiggled and slithered as he waved good-bye.

At the gate to Lola’s mansion, Boomer stopped the car. “If you don’t hate my guts, do you want to have dinner tonight?”

“I would like that. Do you mind if I bring my mother? I’d like you to meet her.”

“Okay. I’ll pick you up at seven. Does this mean we’re back on track, Cady?”

Were they? She smiled and nodded. “I remember how good it felt when you squeezed my hand that day twenty years ago.”

Boomer watched her walk away, his own eyes wet.

Cady entered the kitchen and looked around. Nothing had changed other than the fact that there were now four people sitting at the table instead of three. She homed in on Lola. Tears rolled down her cheeks. “None of it matters. What matters is knowing I’m not really your granddaughter. I thought I belonged to you because I loved you so much. Can I still come and visit? Can we be friends?” Hard sobs tore at her throat when she dropped to her knees to put her head in Lola’s lap.

“Dear child, you are my granddaughter. Biology can’t change that. That genealogical crap was always overrated in my opinion. Look at me, Cady. I’ve loved you since the day you were born. I’ve loved you every day since, and I will love you until the day I die and then into perpetuity. Are we clear on that? Nothing has changed except you got your memory back. With the exception of your friend Amy, only good things came of all this. Your mother is here. My son is going to have the life he always wanted, thanks to ‘an anonymous benefactor.’ You have made peace with your friends and made some new friends in the process. You have lightened our lives, and all of us love you dearly. We love your dog, too.”