Page 134 of Indigo Ridge (The Edens 1)

“I can’t imagine how they’re feeling.” Melina dropped her gaze to her lap. “To think for so many years that their girls . . . I’m just glad to have the truth.”

“I’m sorry you lost her.”

“Me too.” Her eyes were brimming with unshed tears.

Even with time, there were wounds that would never heal.

A tear dripped down Melina’s cheek. Then another. She cast her gaze once more to the photographs of her beautiful daughter.

“We’ll get out of your hair.” Griffin stood first, holding out a hand to help me to my feet.

We said goodbye to Melina, leaving her to find whatever peace possible, and climbed into Griffin’s truck.

The moment the door was closed, I let out the breath I’d been holding.

“You okay?” he asked, sliding behind the wheel.

“Just tired.”

“That’s enough for one day.”

“I wanted to visit Pops. See how the packing is going.”

“It’s going fine. He knows where to find us. You’re taking a nap.”

I frowned but had learned in the past two weeks that arguing was pointless. So I relaxed into the seat as Griffin drove us home.

“I’m proud of you.” He reached over and lifted a hand off my lap, bringing it to his lips. “You never gave up. Even when we all told you to drop it. Maybe if I hadn’t . . .”

“This isn’t your fault.”

He looked over and the pain in those eyes shot straight to my heart. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“You didn’t.”

“But—” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Then he drove in silence, taking us home. Three cars crowded the space next to my Durango. One belonged to Harrison. The other, Pops. The third, Briggs.

“So much for that nap.”

“They get ten minutes,” Griff said. “Then I’m kicking them out.”

“No, let them stay.” It filled my heart that so many people had come to check on me. On us.

Griff stared at the back of Briggs’s truck, making no move to go inside.

“What?” I asked.

“For a while, I worried it was him. That he’d done something and blacked it out.”

Briggs had come every day since I’d been released from the hospital, each time with a bouquet of flowers. I’d be forever grateful that he’d found his way to the hiking trail in the dark. “He saved my life.”

“He did.”

“If his dementia gets worse, if he needs help, we’re moving him in.”

“Yes. Into Mom and Dad’s house.” Griffin nodded. “They talked about it. They’re going to start having him down more. Checking on him more. When it’s time, they’ll move him to their place.”

“We have room.”