Chapter 220

I had a restless night, unable to find any sleep with so many revelations bouncing around in my head.

Logan did his best to help me, holding and kissing me, but before too long, he couldn’t keep his eyes open. I watched him sleep, dozing only lightly here and there.

When the sun came up, it was almost a relief. I didn’t have to pretend anymore.

We shared an early breakfast with the Christopher’s, then loaded up the car for our trip. When we were ready to leave, Frank gave me a hug first, then Tammy.

“You’ll always have a home here,” Tammy whispered into my ear.

I hugged her tighter after that.

Logan drove guided by the GPS, and after thirty minutes, we pulled down the main street of the small town of Farhaven. The main street was scenic, with family-owned store fronts, flower beds under windows, and wooden park benches every now and then.

People were milling about, shopping and heading to work. It seemed very peaceful here. The people looked happy.

The cemetery was on the other end of the town, passed the town hall and another large building that seemed to be a bank. The cemetery didn’t have its own parking so Logan found a spot on the street. We walked the rest of the way.

As Tammy had already located my birth mother’s grave, we were able to follow the paths and markers to the right section and row. The cemetery was pretty small, considering, so it didn’t take us more than five minutes from when we entered until we spotted the correct headstone.

Here lies Angela Clives. Under listed the years of her birth and death. With quick calculation, I realized she was only 38. Too young. Far too young.

That was it. No other words. No other memories. Just a name and a set of dates to remember an entire life lost.

Yet, the more I looked at the headstone and the area of the grave itself, the more I realized how well tended it was compared to the more forgotten graves to the left and right. Angela’s even had real flowers around it, and they were still blooming.

Someone had to be tending to this grave. But who?

“Excuse me,” said a voice from behind us. Logan and I turned to see a woman of around 40 slowly approaching us. She stayed far off, as if not wanting to intrude. “Forgive me, but I have to ask. Are you one of Angela’s little girls?”

I blinked, startled.

“What makes you say that?” Logan interjected, speaking for me as my voice was lost.

“It’s just… you look so much like her.”

“Like who?” Logan asked.

“Why… Like Angela.” The woman motioned toward the headstone. “Oh, forgive me again. My name is Rosa. I was friends with your mother after she moved here to Farhaven, until her passing…”

I didn’t know whether to believe her or not. This woman – Rosa – could have just as easily seen my face on the news. Mr. Hatfield Senior made sure my face and sour reputation were out there for the entire world to see.

Yet… Maybe I was blinded by hope, but I wanted to believe Rosa was genuine. To look like my mother, to be connected to her in some way, filled me with a sense of relief. As if she hadn’t been totally lost before I could ever hope to know her.

“I look like her?” I asked.

“Yes,” Rosa said. “Oh, here.” Rosa opened her phone and started scrolling. When she found what she was looking for, she turned her phone toward me. On the screen was a photo of Rosa and my mother, their arms hooked through one another’s. My mother was smiling so big, her mouth was open like she was laughing.

Her blonde hair. Her physique. Her nose and lips and eyes.

We really did look alike.

“What happened to her?” I asked.

“She had many demons. Addictions that stole her youth,” Rosa said. Turning the phone toward herself, she frowned sadly at it. “By the time we became friends, she’d moved passed all that. But the damage to her body had already been done. She worked hard to turn her life around, but her past still caught up to her.”

“The news says she died from an overdose,” Logan said.

Rosa lifted her gaze and glared at him. “She died because her liver failed. She’d been clean for years. She was on a waiting list for a transplant, but she kept insisting others go ahead of her. That’s how she was, always putting others first. Even when the doctors told her, she had such little time left.”

“She was selfless,” I said.

“When I knew her, yes,” Rosa said. “And so filled with regret. Ever she talked about the two girls she loved but didn’t know. Once, I asked her to reconnect. She admitted she didn’t know where to begin. They changed everything about you, she said. Even your names.”

“My name is Hazel,” I told her.

“Nice to finally meet you, Hazel,” Rosa said, her sad smile returning.

I looked down at the headstone. “It doesn’t say anything here.” Typically headstones would give some kind of indication about the person’s life. Mother or Friend… Something to prove they were loved when they had been alive.

“There wasn’t a lot of money for extra carvings,” Rosa said. “And I’m not sure what she would have wanted. Even with the doctors’ insistence, I think she thought she had more time.”

What a tragedy.

Logan placed his hand on the small of my back, and I leaned into him. “What do you want it to say?” he asked me.

“You are her daughter. You should decide in her stead,” Rosa agreed.

It was a tall order. I didn’t know Angela Clives in life. I barely knew her in death.

Yet she was still my mother. And she had never forgotten me, even if circumstances made it impossible for her to reach me.

Perhaps it was imagined, but I felt a connection to her. To this place. Even to this woman Rosa who had known her well, who was likely caring for this grave.

“I think… I want it to say…” I gave a moment’s more thought, then decided. “Remembered.”

“I like that,” Rosa said at once. “She would too. I was there at the end. She didn’t cry, not until the last moments. ‘Lord, protect my girls,’ she said. ‘Even if they never know me.’”

I tried to imagine it, a woman who looked like me, lying on a hospital bed, knowing she was about to die. She had nothing on her mind or in her heart but the care of the two girls she was forced to surrender.

“She wasn’t a woman without flaws,” Rosa said. “She’d be the first to admit that she had plenty. But she had a big heart. A kind soul. She deserved so much more than she was given.”

“I won’t forget her,” I say. “I’ll keep her alive.”

Rosa smiled wider, even as her own tears began to fall. “I’d like to help you with that. If you’d allow me, I would tell you stories… I have so many pictures…”

I turned to look at this woman, Rosa, my new friend. “I’d like that,” I said.

Logan’s grandfather had brought up my mother in hopes to tarnish me and wear down my resolve.

He had no idea that he did the exact opposite.

I felt stronger now, connected to a past I didn’t know.

And I was ready to take Mr. Hatfield Senior down once and for all.