It was difficult to get all the facts settled in her mind, let alone in her heart. But Britta was very tired and yearned for home, to sleep in her own bed, under the roof where dear Mamma had brought her up as her own daughter. She forgave Kathleen for Eli’s death, thought Britta, still astounded by it. I always knew Mamma was good, but to show such compassion and acceptance . . . Could I have done that? She’s loved me like her own flesh and blood!

Britta leaned against the passenger van window, watching the lights of an industrial park whiz by as the vehicle moved along bustling Route 30 and then exited onto the off-ramp to Route 340. Mamma had also told her that she was quite sure who had been leaving the bouquet of flowers at the site of the accident on the anniversary of Eli’s death. “I’ve seen it there every year since Kathleen got out of prison.”

Pondering this once more, Britta tried to imagine Susie’s reaction, dreading the difficult memories it would dredge up for her dear big sister. When should I tell her, Lord?

When Britta finally arrived home late that night, Susie immediately sensed something bothering her, or at least an air of distraction. Or was it melancholy? Perhaps she was only tired, and who wouldn’t be after all those hours riding in the van? Even so, she knew her sister well enough to see something was off beam.

Susie offered to help her unpack upstairs, but Britta shook her head, as if ready to call it a day. Susie hugged her again and, feeling disappointed, made her way to her own room. Maybe she’ll want to talk more tomorrow, she thought. Even so, Susie hoped all was well as she sat on her bed, perplexed.

But the next day, Britta seemed even more preoccupied at both breakfast and the noon meal, and she spent an unusually long time in the stable—far longer than necessary. For a while, Susie wondered if she might be calling to let Mamma know she’d arrived safely, but when she asked Britta about it later, Britta said she’d called Allen first thing that morning, after milking the goats.

“So early?” Susie asked.

“Well, Allen’s up before dawn” was all Britta said.

“Did somethin’ upset ya in Missouri?” Susie pressed, wanting to know.

Britta only shrugged, then politely declined dessert and headed to the utility room to don her coat and scarf. After she had left the house for the stable yet again, Susie rose and went to peer out the back window, observing the slump of Britta’s shoulders as she slowly walked to the barn.