The photos, they were the hardest. Faces staring back at her, year after year. Jennifer stood at the mantel in the house she and Wallace had shared for more than fifteen years.
She didn’t quite know where to start. It was a far cry from where they had lived in Philadelphia.
They’d started off in a small apartment near the hospital where Wallace had worked. Then they’d moved up. And up.
They’d kept moving up, until they’d come here.
Each time they’d moved, the photos had come down last. Ray, Reggie…Elizabeth. Her precious Elizabeth, born so perfect on the outside.
She’d been such a beautiful baby.
Forever captured in the handful of photos Wallace had taken during the three hours they had with her.
Ray’s death was bringing up what she had long suppressed. No surprise.
Death always had a way of bringing back all hurts.
Her Ray had been such a confused little boy. A broken man trying to mend himself, but failing.
Now, he was gone. All that was left of him was memories and the casseroles people had dropped off for her and Wallace and…Reggie.
Just Reggie now. Her son. Her greatest accomplishment would always be her son.
But now…she couldn’t keep living like this. This lie with Wallace.
It was time.
She was going to box up the past and move on. Now. Today.
She pulled the first photograph off the wall and deliberately put the memories of her daughter away once again.
She had finished with the first box, when her cell rang. Kyle. Her assistant. “Yes? What is it?”
He’d wanted to stay with her today, but she’d forced him away. Now…she’d needed to do this alone. This decision was hers.
“Turn on the news. Something is happening near the hospital. I think it involves Wallace.”
Jennifer turned on the news immediately. Then watched in horror as her world imploded once again.