Forty Thousand Dollars Demanded to Bring Our Lost Daughter Home
Aunt Evelyn, Vince’s mother, sat on the wooden bench by the vending machines, her small vinyl purse clutched in both hands.
Her eyes were red, and she looked smaller than she had at the Sunday dinner three weeks ago.
My mother stood near her, holding a paper cup of water she had brought from the cooler in the corner.
As we approached, Evelyn stood up, her small shoes clicking softly on the floor.
“Clara,” Evelyn whispered, looking at my mother.
“They told me he is not going to the state prison.”
My mother adjusted her wire-rimmed reading glasses, her face soft but serious as she looked at her sister-in-law.
“Andrew settled it with the deputy,” Clara said, her Southern drawl slow and gentle.
“He will stay close by, Evelyn.”
Evelyn reached out and took my mother’s hand, her fingers trembling against Clara’s palm.
“I do not know how to thank you,” she said, her voice cracking as she looked at me.
“After what he did to your family, to Patrick.”
