The first person I recognized in Charleston was my mother.<\/p>\n
She was sitting outside the intensive care unit when I arrived.<\/p>\n
For a moment, I watched her without approaching.<\/p>\n
Her hair was grayer.<\/p>\n
She looked thinner.<\/p>\n
There were deep lines around her mouth that hadn't been there before.<\/p>\n
But I still knew the way she sat.<\/p>\n
Back straight.<\/p>\n
Purse on her lap.<\/p>\n
Hands folded carefully as though she were waiting for someone to tell her what to do.<\/p>\n
I said her name.<\/p>\n
She looked up.<\/p>\n
For a second, she seemed unable to move.<\/p>\n
Then she stood.<\/p>\n
"Emma?"<\/p>\n
I nodded.<\/p>\n
She came toward me with her arms raised.<\/p>\n
I stepped backward.<\/p>\n
She stopped.<\/p>\n
Her hands dropped.<\/p>\n
"Oh, sweetheart."<\/p>\n
I looked past her toward the ICU doors.<\/p>\n
"Where's Natalie?"<\/p>\n
Mom swallowed.<\/p>\n
"They're operating again."<\/p>\n
"What happened at the inn?"<\/p>\n
Her eyes moved toward the end of the hallway.<\/p>\n
"Can we talk somewhere else?"<\/p>\n
"Why?"<\/p>\n
"Your father might come back."<\/p>\n
I looked at her.<\/p>\n
"You keep saying that."<\/p>\n
She said nothing.<\/p>\n
"Why doesn't he want me here?"<\/p>\n
Her eyes filled.<\/p>\n
"I shouldn't have waited so long to call you."<\/p>\n
I wanted to ask what that meant.<\/p>\n
Before I could, a nurse approached us.<\/p>\n
"Are you here for Natalie Pierce?"<\/p>\n
We both turned.<\/p>\n
The nurse explained that the surgeon wanted to speak with the family.<\/p>\n
We followed her into a small consultation room.<\/p>\n
I sat beside my mother.<\/p>\n
It felt strange.<\/p>\n
We were close enough that our elbows almost touched.<\/p>\n
Eight years ago, I would have leaned against her.<\/p>\n
Now I shifted my chair away.<\/p>\n
The surgeon explained that Natalie had inhaled a dangerous amount of smoke.<\/p>\n
She had burns on her arms and shoulders.<\/p>\n
Falling debris had injured her head.<\/p>\n
She'd already undergone surgery, and the doctors were watching her closely.<\/p>\n
Her condition remained serious.<\/p>\n
But there were reasons to hope.<\/p>\n
Mom covered her face.<\/p>\n
I stared at the floor.<\/p>\n
Natalie was thirty-one.<\/p>\n
I hadn't seen her since she was twenty-three.<\/p>\n
The last time we'd been together, she'd been laughing in the driveway while Mom loaded the van.<\/p>\n
Now she was lying in intensive care.<\/p>\n
I didn't know what I was supposed to feel.<\/p>\n
Anger was still there.<\/p>\n
So was grief.<\/p>\n
And beneath both was the uncomfortable knowledge that my sister might die before I ever heard her explain anything.<\/p>\n
When the nurse said I could visit briefly, I went alone.<\/p>\n
The room was dim.<\/p>\n
Machines made soft sounds beside the bed.<\/p>\n
Natalie had bandages across one arm and part of her shoulder.<\/p>\n
Her blond hair had been cut around the injury near her temple.<\/p>\n
I stood at the doorway for several seconds.<\/p>\n
She looked smaller than I remembered.<\/p>\n
I approached her bed.<\/p>\n
"Hi, Nat."<\/p>\n
She didn't move.<\/p>\n
I sat down.<\/p>\n
I watched the monitor.<\/p>\n
Then I said what I'd never been able to say to her face.<\/p>\n
"I was angry with you for years."<\/p>\n
My voice sounded unfamiliar in that quiet room.<\/p>\n
"I hated hearing about your trips."<\/p>\n
I looked at her bandaged hand.<\/p>\n
"I hated pretending I didn't care."<\/p>\n
There was no response.<\/p>\n
"I don't know if you ever understood what that did to me."<\/p>\n
I swallowed.<\/p>\n
"But I don't want you to die."<\/p>\n
I remained beside her until the nurse returned.<\/p>\n
When I stood, I noticed the clear hospital bag containing Natalie's belongings.<\/p>\n
There was a watch.<\/p>\n
A damaged phone.<\/p>\n
And a silver bracelet.<\/p>\n
I recognized it.<\/p>\n
Natalie had brought it home from Myrtle Beach when we were teenagers.<\/p>\n
I remembered asking whether there was another one.<\/p>\n
She'd laughed at me.<\/p>\n
Now I could see the charm more clearly.<\/p>\n
A small bird.<\/p>\n
Its neck curved downward.<\/p>\n
A heron.<\/p>\n
The same kind of bird painted on the sign outside the Blue Heron Inn.<\/p>\n
I leaned closer.<\/p>\n
Then I heard someone behind me.<\/p>\n
"Emma?"<\/p>\n
I turned.<\/p>\n
Scott Pierce stood in the doorway.<\/p>\n
His hair was beginning to gray.<\/p>\n
He looked exhausted.<\/p>\n
But he was still unmistakably the man who had helped load the van that final summer.<\/p>\n
"Scott."<\/p>\n
He stared at me.<\/p>\n
"I wasn't sure you'd actually come."<\/p>\n
I looked toward Natalie.<\/p>\n
"Tell me what happened."<\/p>\n
He glanced into the hallway.<\/p>\n
Then he came closer.<\/p>\n
"Your dad says the fire was an accident."<\/p>\n
"Wasn't it?"<\/p>\n
He shook his head.<\/p>\n
"That's not what I believe."<\/p>\n
My stomach tightened.<\/p>\n
"Why?"<\/p>\n
He looked at his wife.<\/p>\n
"She found something she wasn't supposed to find."<\/p>\n
"What?"<\/p>\n
"Records. Things your father has been hiding."<\/p>\n
I waited.<\/p>\n
Scott rubbed his face.<\/p>\n
"She wanted you to see them."<\/p>\n
I felt cold.<\/p>\n
"Why me?"<\/p>\n
He didn't answer directly.<\/p>\n
"Somebody tried to stop her from getting those records to you."<\/p>\n
I looked at Natalie.<\/p>\n
Then at him.<\/p>\n
"Are you saying somebody started that fire?"<\/p>\n
"I'm saying you need to find out what happened."<\/p>\n
"Then tell me."<\/p>\n
He glanced at the open door.<\/p>\n
"Not here."<\/p>\n
I almost laughed.<\/p>\n
My mother wouldn't talk in the hallway.<\/p>\n
Scott wouldn't talk in the hospital.<\/p>\n
Everyone seemed to have spent years practicing how to avoid a straight answer.<\/p>\n
Before he left, Scott told me to visit the Blue Heron.<\/p>\n
He said a longtime employee named Mrs. Bennett might help.<\/p>\n
"Why would she know anything about me?"<\/p>\n
Scott gave me a tired look.<\/p>\n
"Because your grandfather used to talk about you."<\/p>\n
I stared at him.<\/p>\n
"My grandfather?"<\/p>\n
He nodded.<\/p>\n
"Walter Hale."<\/p>\n
Then he walked away.<\/p>\n
I stood beside Natalie's bed.<\/p>\n
Grandpa Walter had died twenty years earlier.<\/p>\n
As far as I knew, he had never even mentioned Myrtle Beach.<\/p>\n
I remembered him teaching me how to use a screwdriver.<\/p>\n
I remembered peppermint candies.<\/p>\n
I remembered his large hands guiding mine while we worked on a little wooden birdhouse.<\/p>\n
What did he have to do with an inn in South Carolina?<\/p>\n
The following morning, I rented a car and drove north.<\/p>\n
I had never traveled that section of coast before.<\/p>\n
The closer I got to Myrtle Beach, the more nervous I became.<\/p>\n
For years, that name had meant the place I wasn't allowed to visit.<\/p>\n
I'd never pictured myself driving there alone.<\/p>\n
Then I saw the Atlantic.<\/p>\n
It appeared between buildings as I approached the shore.<\/p>\n
I pulled into a public parking area.<\/p>\n
For a while, I stayed behind the wheel.<\/p>\n
Then I got out.<\/p>\n
I walked across the sand.<\/p>\n
It was softer than I expected.<\/p>\n
The water reached my shoes.<\/p>\n
I stepped farther in.<\/p>\n
A wave soaked the bottoms of my jeans.<\/p>\n
I laughed.<\/p>\n
I hadn't meant to.<\/p>\n
It just came out.<\/p>\n
Then I began crying.<\/p>\n
I was twenty-seven years old.<\/p>\n
I had driven across the country at nineteen, built a career, and bought a house.<\/p>\n
Yet I was standing in the ocean like a little girl who had finally received permission to go outside.<\/p>\n
I stayed until my shoes were completely wet.<\/p>\n
Then I returned to the car.<\/p>\n
The Blue Heron stood on a quieter section of the beachfront.<\/p>\n
It wasn't a huge hotel.<\/p>\n
The building had fourteen guest rooms, a porch, and an older two-story section near the back.<\/p>\n
Yellow tape surrounded the fire-damaged area.<\/p>\n
Several windows were darkened with soot.<\/p>\n
I could smell smoke before I reached the front steps.<\/p>\n
An older woman was sweeping sand from the walkway.<\/p>\n
Her silver hair was tied back.<\/p>\n
She wore white sneakers.<\/p>\n
I approached her.<\/p>\n
"Excuse me. Are you Mrs. Bennett?"<\/p>\n
She looked up.<\/p>\n
"Yes."<\/p>\n
"My name's Emma Hale."<\/p>\n
The broom slipped from her hands.<\/p>\n
It struck the wooden steps.<\/p>\n
She stared at me.<\/p>\n
I wondered whether I'd said something wrong.<\/p>\n
Then her eyes filled.<\/p>\n
"Emma?"<\/p>\n
I nodded.<\/p>\n
She covered her mouth.<\/p>\n
"Oh, my goodness."<\/p>\n
I stepped closer.<\/p>\n
"Do you know me?"<\/p>\n
She looked almost offended by the question.<\/p>\n
"Your grandfather carried pictures of you everywhere."<\/p>\n
My chest tightened.<\/p>\n
"Grandpa Walter?"<\/p>\n
"Of course."<\/p>\n
I glanced at the building.<\/p>\n
"He came here?"<\/p>\n
She gave me a long look.<\/p>\n
"He owned it."<\/p>\n
I stopped moving.<\/p>\n
"What?"<\/p>\n
"Walter bought the Blue Heron years ago."<\/p>\n
I stared at her.<\/p>\n
"Nobody told me."<\/p>\n
She looked toward the damaged building.<\/p>\n
"Then we need to sit down."<\/p>\n
She led me into a small office.<\/p>\n
Photographs covered the walls.<\/p>\n
There were shelves holding seashells and old guestbooks.<\/p>\n
A brass clock hung near the door.<\/p>\n
On one wall was a large black-and-white picture.<\/p>\n
A man stood in front of the inn.<\/p>\n
He had white hair.<\/p>\n
A familiar smile.<\/p>\n
Grandpa Walter.<\/p>\n
I walked toward it.<\/p>\n
"That's him."<\/p>\n
Mrs. Bennett nodded.<\/p>\n
"He worked on this place whenever he could."<\/p>\n
I studied the photograph.<\/p>\n
He looked proud.<\/p>\n
Not the distant kind of pride I remembered from Dad when he talked about money.<\/p>\n
Grandpa looked like a man who had finished repairing something with his own hands.<\/p>\n
"Why didn't my father tell me?"<\/p>\n
Mrs. Bennett hesitated.<\/p>\n
"He said you had no interest in the business."<\/p>\n
I turned toward her.<\/p>\n
"I didn't even know it existed."<\/p>\n
She sat down.<\/p>\n
"Well, that certainly changes things."<\/p>\n
She opened a desk drawer and took out an old photograph.<\/p>\n
Grandpa stood beside a little girl with brown pigtails.<\/p>\n
The girl held a wooden birdhouse.<\/p>\n
My breath caught.<\/p>\n
"That's me."<\/p>\n
"I know."<\/p>\n
I touched the edge of the photograph.<\/p>\n
I remembered making the birdhouse in Ohio.<\/p>\n
Grandpa had let me use his screwdriver.<\/p>\n
I'd been so proud that I made everyone come outside to see it.<\/p>\n
Mrs. Bennett smiled sadly.<\/p>\n
"He used to show that picture to the staff."<\/p>\n
"What did he say?"<\/p>\n
"That you were going to grow up knowing how to mend just about anything."<\/p>\n
I looked down.<\/p>\n
I wasn't ready for the feeling that came over me.<\/p>\n
For years, I'd convinced myself that nobody in my family had noticed what mattered to me.<\/p>\n
Now I was standing in an office where a dead man had apparently talked about me with pride.<\/p>\n
Mrs. Bennett opened another drawer.<\/p>\n
She removed a thick envelope.<\/p>\n
It was old and yellowed.<\/p>\n
My name was written across it.<\/p>\n
EMMA HALE.<\/p>\n
Underneath, Grandpa had written that it should be kept until I came to the inn.<\/p>\n
My hands started trembling.<\/p>\n
"How long have you had this?"<\/p>\n
"Many years."<\/p>\n
"Why didn't you send it?"<\/p>\n
"Your father told me you didn't wish to be involved."<\/p>\n
I stared at the envelope.<\/p>\n
That familiar excuse.<\/p>\n
I wasn't interested.<\/p>\n
I didn't like traveling.<\/p>\n
I preferred staying home.<\/p>\n
One lie after another.<\/p>\n
I opened it.<\/p>\n
Inside was a letter dated twenty years earlier.<\/p>\n
Grandpa had written about the inn.<\/p>\n
He described it as a place he'd worked hard to preserve.<\/p>\n
He said he wanted it to mean something to me when I was older.<\/p>\n
He mentioned Natalie, too.<\/p>\n
He explained that each of us would have a separate inheritance.<\/p>\n
Then he wrote about my curiosity.<\/p>\n
How I liked taking things apart.<\/p>\n
How he hoped I'd visit someday and help him work on the porch.<\/p>\n
I read that part twice.<\/p>\n
Grandpa had died when I was seven.<\/p>\n
He hadn't known what I would grow up to do.<\/p>\n
But he had known what I loved.<\/p>\n
At the end of the letter, he told me the Blue Heron was supposed to be somewhere I could always feel welcome.<\/p>\n
I lowered the paper.<\/p>\n
"Mrs. Bennett, what inheritance?"<\/p>\n
She looked uncomfortable.<\/p>\n
"Has nobody explained the trust?"<\/p>\n
I shook my head.<\/p>\n
"What trust?"<\/p>\n
She folded her hands.<\/p>\n
"Walter left Natalie investments."<\/p>\n
I waited.<\/p>\n
"And he set aside the Blue Heron for you."<\/p>\n
For a moment, I didn't understand.<\/p>\n
"You mean he wanted me to work here?"<\/p>\n
"No, dear."<\/p>\n
She shook her head.<\/p>\n
"The inn was placed in a trust for your benefit."<\/p>\n
I stared at her.<\/p>\n
"My benefit?"<\/p>\n
"Your father was supposed to look after the property until you reached the age specified in the trust."<\/p>\n
"Which age?"<\/p>\n
"I believe thirty."<\/p>\n
I looked toward the window.<\/p>\n
Outside, I could see a narrow strip of ocean.<\/p>\n
Thirty.<\/p>\n
I was twenty-seven.<\/p>\n
I had spent eleven summers being told I couldn't come to this beach.<\/p>\n
And for twenty years, there had been a property here connected to my name.<\/p>\n
"Are you saying my grandfather left me this building?"<\/p>\n
Mrs. Bennett nodded.<\/p>\n
"Subject to the trust arrangements, yes."<\/p>\n
I sat down.<\/p>\n
My knees didn't feel steady.<\/p>\n
I thought about Dad loading luggage into the van.<\/p>\n
I thought about Natalie inviting Brooke.<\/p>\n
I thought about the condo I had been promised.<\/p>\n
And I thought about all the photographs my family had taken at Myrtle Beach without me.<\/p>\n
There was something Mrs. Bennett didn't yet know.<\/p>\n
I had paid for my own training.<\/p>\n
I had worked in a tire shop to save money.<\/p>\n
I had slept in my truck when I first reached Arizona.<\/p>\n
I told her.<\/p>\n
Her expression changed.<\/p>\n
"Your father said the trust was helping with your education."<\/p>\n
I looked at her.<\/p>\n
"It wasn't."<\/p>\n
She stared.<\/p>\n
"He also said any money left over was being saved for you."<\/p>\n
I shook my head.<\/p>\n
"I haven't received anything."<\/p>\n
For several seconds, she said nothing.<\/p>\n
Then she stood.<\/p>\n
She walked to an old filing cabinet.<\/p>\n
I watched her pull out a folder.<\/p>\n
She placed it on the desk between us.<\/p>\n
"Then I think you'd better look at these."<\/p>\n
The folder contained payment records.<\/p>\n
Some were ordinary expenses connected to running the inn.<\/p>\n
Others looked different.<\/p>\n
There were invoices for condo rentals.<\/p>\n
Restaurants.<\/p>\n
Entertainment.<\/p>\n
Shopping.<\/p>\n
Fishing trips.<\/p>\n
I turned a page.<\/p>\n
One document carried my name in an accounting notation.<\/p>\n
E. Hale Trust.<\/p>\n
I kept reading.<\/p>\n
Another charge.<\/p>\n
Another summer.<\/p>\n
Another expensive trip.<\/p>\n
I recognized some of the dates.<\/p>\n
The year I was thirteen.<\/p>\n
The summer Brooke went with Natalie.<\/p>\n
The vacation when I was fifteen.<\/p>\n
I felt my mouth go dry.<\/p>\n
Mrs. Bennett sat quietly.<\/p>\n
I turned back to the first page and read the notation again.<\/p>\n
Money tied to my trust had apparently been used to pay for expenses connected to the family vacations.<\/p>\n
Vacations I hadn't been allowed to attend.<\/p>\n
For several minutes, I couldn't speak.<\/p>\n
Mrs. Bennett finally asked whether I needed water.<\/p>\n
I shook my head.<\/p>\n
I looked at the old photograph of Grandpa Walter.<\/p>\n
He was smiling beneath the Blue Heron's wooden sign.<\/p>\n
I had thought my parents didn't want to spend money taking me to the beach.<\/p>\n
Now I had records suggesting they had spent money from my inheritance to enjoy the beach without me.<\/p>\n
I put the papers down.<\/p>\n
For the first time, I understood why my father might have wanted to keep a curious little girl away from this building.<\/p>\n
The first person I recognized in Charleston was my mother. She was sitting outside the intensive care unit when I arrived. For a moment, I watched her without approaching. Her … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":9740,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-9743","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-drama-sory"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lastestdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9743","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lastestdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lastestdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lastestdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lastestdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=9743"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/lastestdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9743\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":9763,"href":"https:\/\/lastestdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9743\/revisions\/9763"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lastestdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/9740"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lastestdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=9743"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lastestdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=9743"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lastestdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=9743"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}