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Back Love and Other Lies
Chapters (61)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Imagine a girl
  4. Prologue
  5. The Foreigner
  6. One
  7. Two
  8. Three
  9. Four
  10. Five
  11. The Skeptic
  12. Six
  13. Seven
  14. Eight
  15. Nine
  16. Ten
  17. Eleven
  18. Twelve
  19. Thirteen
  20. Fourteen
  21. Fifteen
  22. Sixteen
  23. Seventeen
  24. Eighteen
  25. Nineteen
  26. Twenty
  27. Twenty-One
  28. Twenty-Two
  29. Twenty-Three
  30. The Spectator
  31. Twenty-Four
  32. Twenty-Five
  33. Twenty-Six
  34. Twenty-Seven
  35. Twenty-Eight
  36. Twenty-Nine
  37. The Assassin
  38. Thirty
  39. Thirty-One
  40. Thirty-Two
  41. Thirty-Three
  42. Thirty-Four
  43. Thirty-Five
  44. Thirty-Six
  45. Thirty-Seven
  46. Thirty-Eight
  47. Thirty-Nine
  48. Forty
  49. Forty-One
  50. The Hunter
  51. Forty-Two
  52. Forty-Three
  53. Forty-Four
  54. Forty-Five
  55. Forty-Six
  56. Forty-Seven
  57. Imagine a girl
  58. Acknowledgments
  59. About the Author
  60. Also by Ben McPherson
  61. About the Publisher

“And what if they were disguising something? This matters, Dad. It should matter to you.”

“Vee,” I said, “we’re all exhausted. Please go to bed.”

I was up at six, showering, when I heard the scream. So very loud it was. So piercing, and so very close. I heard Elsa spring from our bedroom past Franklin and into the kitchen.

I pulled a towel around me, was there seconds behind her.

Elsa frozen by the sink, her eyes searching for the source.

Another scream.

She nodded toward Vee’s room, and we were off, Elsa in front of me.

Vee’s voice: “Get the FUCK away from me and out of my room!”

Elsa threw open the door. There was Vee, sitting upright in bed. And there, tall and angular in her simple gray dress, was our lost daughter Licia.

Thirty-Five

“Hello,” said Licia as she turned toward me.

I heard myself speak her name.

“FUCK!” shouted Vee. “LICIA? REALLY?”

Only Elsa was silent. She stood there, her mouth open, gulping air.

I could feel the adrenaline coursing through me. “Licia,” I said. “Oh, my Licia.”

“Licia,” said Vee, calmer now. “Licia, Licia, Licia.”

“Alicia May Curtis,” said Elsa. “My God. How?”

“Yeah,” said Vee. “Actually, what the fuck?”

“My window was unlocked,” said Licia simply, as if that were an explanation.

She had grown her blond hair. It hung in a simple plait halfway down her back. She was taller too. More like her mother than ever, though her clothes were formal. A plain gray smock. A gray skirt, unpleated. White socks. Around her waist a small gray cloth bag hung on a simple belt.

I laughed. “I knew it. Elsa, didn’t I say she was alive?”

Licia smiled the most beautiful smile.

Elation spread through me. “Didn’t I tell you?” I looked at Elsa. “Didn’t I promise you she would come back?”

“I don’t think you ever did.” Elsa was dabbing at her eyes with the base of her palms. “But that’s okay. Oh, Licia, honey . . .”

“Fuck,” said Vee again, quieter now. “Licia.”

“You can stop cursing. I’m here.” An odd little formal smile.

I could feel the smile on my own face, a true smile, a smile over which I had no control. It was an alien feeling after all this time. Almost an ache.

“Oh, fuck, Licia,” said Vee. “We all thought you were . . .”

“I’m home,” said Licia. “There really is no need to swear.”

“Where have you been?” said Vee.

Licia sat on the bed. “I’m home.”

Vee threw her arms around her sister, crying and laughing.

I could see the weight beginning to lift from Elsa’s shoulders. I felt that same weight begin to lift from mine as Licia sat there, all angular and long.

“Licia?” I said.