Breathe

My lips started trembling as tears welled up quickly and slid out of my eyes.

“My mother was murdered,” Miah continued and a deep hush stole through the already silent crowd. “My sister and I kidnapped and confined. But even with that, when they came into my life, I learned a lesson that was different than the one I’d been learning for three years. That this world was infested with dark and it can drag you in, hold you down and make you believe that’s all there is. But they taught me with the dark comes light and light is stronger and more powerful because it never gives up. That there were good people in this world who sense wrong being done and set about making it right. They didn’t talk about it. They didn’t think about it. They did it. It cost them time and money and emotion. All of this for a kid they did not know. But they still did it. So if there’s anything I want my fellow graduates to take away from today, from this speech, as they move on in their lives, learning to be adults, learning to fit into this world, no matter what they decide to do, who they decide to be, they should endeavor to be good and pure and right. They should be the kind of people who sense wrong being done and set about making it right. Not talk about it or think about it but do it. Because the wrong being done can be very wrong. It can destroy lives. It can eat away happiness in a way that it will never come back. But if it’s stopped and light shines through the dark, it could end in a kid who lost everything but his sister, had no power, was terrified but, years later, stands in front of a room full of people making a Valedictorian speech.”

Miah’s red, wet gaze came to Chace and me.

“I stand here because of you, my Aslan, my Faye, my protectors and I make the promise that what you gave me, what you taught me, I will live those lessons. I cannot repay you for what you gave me. That’s all I can do. All I can do is learn the lesson you taught me and go forward in my life good and pure and right.” His voice dipped to a whisper in the microphone and he finished, “Thank you.”

Through watery eyes, I watched Miah duck his head and move away from the podium.

I was quietly blubbering.

The auditorium was on their feet.

Chace’s arm tightened around my shoulders, I heard him clear his throat but I felt a little arm slide around my belly so I looked down at my son, Jacob.

“Mommy, who’s Miah talkin’ about?”

I lifted my hand to his cheek, looked into my husband’s beautiful eyes in my son’s beloved face and whispered, “Your Daddy and me.”

Jake looked to his Dad then the podium and back at me.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, baby,” I was still whispering. “Absolutely fine.”

And I absolutely was.

Because I knew, without a doubt, finally, that Miah was.

* * * * *

Chace

One day later

“You can show me,” Miah said softly and Chace turned his head and looked at him.

They were sitting on top of a picnic table by the creek just down from his grandparents’ home, feet on the seat, eyes, until Chace looked at him, on the rushing water.

He’d grown up healthy and strong. Not tall, none of his kin were tall, he was five eleven. But he had a lean, straight body, long legs, growing broad near-to a man’s shoulders and he was a good-looking kid, that mop of thick blond hair, those unusual light brown eyes.

He was popular at school. Ran track and cross country. Class president. Captain of the debate team. Editor of the school newspaper. National Honor Society.

It didn’t surprise Chace that he chose sports where he competed individually, on a team but his performance was based on his personal endeavors but still, he found other activities where he could be a leader and each one he found he was the leader.

What did surprise Chace was that he was popular regardless of his intellect, his continued voracious reading, the fact that he was quiet, not shy, not introverted, but an observer, soft spoken and he didn’t speak unless what he had to say meant something.

“Had a chat with Ezra,” Chace told him.

“I know,” Miah replied.

“Ezra said you’re ready.”

“That’s because I am.”

Chace pressed his lips together because he was uncertain he agreed and he looked back at the creek.

“Chace, I talked about it to the counselors a long time ago. To granddad. To you that time you and Faye were up here last year. I’m cool with it,” Miah assured him and Chace sucked in breath.

He looked back at him. “Yesterday was your graduation and your party. In a few months you’re off to Columbia. Don’t wanna bring up bad shit when all you got is good happening and the same to look forward to.”

“I want to do it,” Miah stated.

“Miah –”

“Chace,” he straightened but kept Chace’s eyes, “I want to do it. Show me.”

Chace sucked in another breath then turned to the folder sitting on the table beside him, flipped it open, pulled out the mug shot and handed it to Miah. Miah bent his head and studied it.

It was the mug shot of the man they suspected murdered Misty and Darren Newcomb.

“He screwed up,” Chace told him. “Got him in Oregon. He took an assignment, took to the woods again and some hunters, both ex-military, were up there. Heard them comin’, they were experienced, got quiet, watched, didn’t like the look of things and hunkered down. Saw it start to go down and they moved in. Incapacitated him. Saved his target. He’s free-lance, not connected to any organization and there’s the possibility that he’s responsible for at least a dozen hits in eight states including two in Carnal.”

“That’s him,” Miah said firmly and handed the mug shot back to Chace.

Chace’s gut got tight.

Shit, this was it. This was finally f**king it.

“You’re sure?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah,” Miah answered.

“Was a long time ago, bud,” Chace reminded him, turning to return the photo to the folder and when he turned back, Miah again locked eyes with him.

“You don’t forget that kind of thing. You know it. I told you about it. All of it. That’s him and I’ll testify.”

Years ago, Miah’s grandparents had been informed that Miah was holding onto this knowledge and thus they’d informed his counselors. So years ago, his therapists helped him deal with what he saw which was not only Misty’s face getting raped but her subsequent murder. Jeremiah had seen the whole thing.