“Thanks. Oh… If you hear of any jobs in town, let me know. I’m going to apply at the Crown first. I don’t care if all I do is sack groceries. I got a lot of catching up to do.”

“I will, Junior. I promise. Good luck, and keep me posted.”

“I will, Sister. Love you.”

Birdie sighed. “Love you too.”

* * *

While Junior was on his way to the Crown, Ray was already on the roof at his mother’s house, laying new shingles with the crew. This would be their final day of work and he wanted to do it right.

Every now and then he caught a glimpse of Hunt moving in and out of the house below and thought, When I grow up, I want to be like him.

It was a fact that the Knox brothers had aged after Hunt was gone, but emotionally, they were all still back in their teens and in the trauma of that day, still the scared and horrified kids caught up in the sins of their father.

Only now, after the secret had come to light and the truth was known, were they finally free to heal. And in that moment, standing on top of the house that had harbored the secret and looking up at the clear blue sky, Ray felt all the possibilities life had waiting.

* * *

Emma was going through an evolution of her own. She had decided last night as she was watching Gordon sleep that she was taking the secret of her baby to the grave. He didn’t need to know, and Hunt had already declared that as far as her siblings were concerned, that was her story, and hers only, to tell.

Finding out that Mark Ryman did not die in their kitchen had been the release she’d needed to forgive herself. God would do the rest. All she knew, and would be forever grateful for, was that Hunt and Mama had saved them all.

* * *

It was just after 10:00 a.m. when Junior walked into the Crown and headed straight for the customer service desk.

Wilson Turner, the manager, was back on duty sporting a swollen nose and two black eyes, but he was alive to tell the tale of how it happened, and he would heal.

“Morning, Wilson,” Junior said. “Heard about your accident. Good to see you back on the job.”

Wilson grimaced. “Thanks, Junior. It was quite a wild ride. What can I do for you?”

“I’d like a job application, please.”

“For yourself?” Wilson asked.

Junior nodded. “Yes, sir. And I don’t mind what I do. I just want to work. I’m going to be going to night school to get my GED, so I’ll need daytime hours, wherever I work.”

Wilson turned around and got an application out of a drawer behind him, then handed it over.

“It appears you have a purpose in mind,” Wilson said.