was safely locked up in the Bootleg Springs jail. But I hadn’t heard a word about the Kendalls. Gibson’s family had taken turns driving by their house on Speakeasy Drive this morning, but the driveway had remained empty. No one had seen them pull into town.
Even if they’d arrived, they couldn’t have been among the faces of Bootleg Springs. The town would have gone into an uproar. But I couldn’t help looking for them, fear knotting my belly.
Maybe I’d never have to see them. Maybe they’d stay in Washington and be arrested there. They’d go to trial and there would be so much evidence against them, my statement would be enough. I wouldn’t have to testify. I wouldn’t have to look at my mother’s cold, dead eyes ever again.
Gibson squeezed my shoulder, jerking me back to reality. Harlan was about to speak.
“It’s my pleasure to bring you this announcement,” he said, his voice steady. “There has been a significant development in the case of Callie Kendall. Thirteen years ago, she went missing from our town. Recently, it was reported that her body had been identified. I’m here to tell you, that report is false. Callie Kendall is not dead. She’s alive and well and she’d be happy to tell you so herself.”
Instead of the surprised gasps of the secret town meeting, the residents of Bootleg cheered. Applause rose from the crowd. People whooped and hollered. Shrill whistles rang through the air. It made my breath catch in my throat. I loved these people so much, I didn’t know what to do with myself.
Most of the journalists turned, pointing cameras and cell phones behind them, recording the town’s reaction.
Gibson took my hand and gave it a tight squeeze, then let go. I stepped up to the mic on the podium.
“Thank you,” I said, my voice projecting through the big speakers. “My name is Callie Kendall.”
Cheers erupted again and I had to stop until the whooping, hollering, and whistling died down.
“I disappeared from Bootleg Springs thirteen years ago. I’m sure your first question is whether I can prove it. After all, there’s a forensics report that says I’m dead. And a woman already tried to claim she was me. I can assure you, I’m the real Callie Kendall.”
Sheriff Tucker handed me the DNA report and I held it up.
“This is DNA evidence proving my identity. I’ve had it verified and notarized. Copies will be made available. But this is irrefutable proof that I am who I say I am.”
I had the attention of the journalists now. None of this was news to the Bootleg crowd, but they still listened with rapt attention. Sheriff Tucker took the DNA report and I adjusted the index cards.
“Thirteen years ago, I ran away from home. My parents, Judge Henry Kendall and Imogen Kendall, were abusing me. I still bear the scars of their abuse.” I touched my face, calling attention to the scar on my cheek. “I left in fear for my life. Jonah Bodine Sr. and his wife Connie helped me that night.
“Mr. Bodine has been wrongfully accused of kidnapping, harming, or even murdering me. I would like to set the record straight, once and for all, that Mr. Bodine did none of those things. He and his wife were heroes to me. They saved a terrified, wounded child and risked themselves to get her to safety. For that, I will always be grateful.”
Another cheer rose up from the crowd, people shouting Jonah and Connie’s names. I glanced over my shoulder at Gibson and his family. Emotion shone on all their faces. Gibson met my eyes and nodded.
I turned back to the mic. “I was taken somewhere safe where kind people cared for me and helped me heal. I grew into adulthood and struck out on my own, with a new name. And until recently, I thought I’d left everything about my life as Callie behind.
“I was traveling out of the country for my job when my missing-persons case was reopened last year. It wasn’t until recently that I became aware of all the new developments. I stayed hidden for all those years to protect myself. But I can’t hide any longer. Too much is at stake. There are many parts of this that I can’t comment on because they’re a part of a larger ongoing investigation. Justice still needs to be served. But I’m here today to share the truth. My name is Callie Kendall, and I’m very much alive. Thank you.”