The possibility of discovering what David did with that money gave her hope that she might get out from under at least part of the debt. “If I can’t afford to pay Mason for the investigation myself, I’ll let you know, so long as it’s not too much.” If she found the money, she’d have no trouble paying her mom back.
“Peace of mind is worth the cost.”
Careful what you wish for. “What if I discover something I don’t want to know?”
“Sometimes knowing the worst is still better than being in the dark. Maybe it will allow you to put your relationship with David to rest. You deserve that, honey. Then you can move on with a clear heart and mind.”
She hoped so, because the questions swirling in her mind sometimes grew quiet, but they never went silent.
Right now, though, Sierra settled into the sofa and finished her tea and thanked her lucky star to have a mom who loved her and welcomed her home with open arms.
She soaked up the warmth of home, her mother’s steady and familiar presence, and knew that though things may be difficult the next days, weeks, and months, she and her sons had a roof over their heads, the love and support of her family, and everything, eventually, would be all right.
Chapter Seven
Sierra leaned back against the hood of her SUV and watched Danny and Oliver playing on the playground at their new school. She’d gotten them enrolled and taken them to meet their new teachers. They were hesitant at first about a new place and new people. She saw it in their little faces when they realized that leaving their old life behind meant losing friends and the familiarity of all they’d known.
Since the fire most of the families they’d known had also scattered to find new homes while they dealt with the aftermath of losing everything. They all had to start over.
She explained that to the boys just before setting them loose on the playground. They seemed to get it, but it didn’t make it easier. And she wished they didn’t have to learn so many hard lessons or suffer so much tragedy in their young lives.
“Look at me, Mom!” Oliver plopped down on the slide and whooshed down, his feet hitting the thick pad at the bottom before he jumped up, gave her a huge smile, and ran to climb back up to the platform and do it again.
For the first time in a long time, her heart felt lighter seeing the boys simply play and have fun.
Amy pulled in next to her car in her white minivan. The side door slid open the second the car stopped and P.J. and Emma leaped out and ran to the playground.
“I want to slide, too.” Emma climbed up the wide steps behind Oliver.
P.J. grabbed a swing, scooted into the seat, and pumped his legs to get going. Danny took the swing next to him. It only took a second for them to see who could fly higher. Their smiles and delight as they tried to outdo each other made Sierra grin.
“We used to be them.” Amy copied Sierra’s pose against the front of the SUV with her arms crossed as she stared out at their four kids playing together.
They were them. Competition and trying to one-up your siblings never changed. At least in Sierra’s experience. As the oldest, Amy always wanted to be the best at everything. She wanted to have everything first.
“How are you, sis?” It had been a long time since Sierra had a good long catch-up with her sister. Dinner the other night had been fun, but they spent most of the evening trying to corral the kids and get them to eat.
“Good. Great.” That was Amy’s way of saying “Fine” when she didn’t really mean it.
“I got the boys enrolled in school. Oliver and Emma are in the same class, but Danny is with Ms. Franks’s class.”
“She’s good, but Ms. Simms is better. She knows how to command the classroom. She pushes the kids. Their test scores are higher than the other teachers’ classes.”
That might be true, but Ms. Franks seemed kind and understanding of what Danny had been through. She’d promised to focus on making sure Danny felt accepted and found new friends so he settled in and felt welcome. She understood that was important for kids starting over at a new school. If he didn’t feel connected to school, he wouldn’t put the work