(I don’t know his name.)
Fr: Danny Ingram
I know my mom wrote you, but I wanted to thank you personally for what you did to help me. I don’t deserve how nice some people have been.
Maybe one day you and your brother can come to my parents’ farm and ride horses or something. We have a three-legged dog that needs company.
Anyway, I’m leaving town for a treatment place to try and get my life together. Thanks again for believing me.
Sincerely,
Danny
Chapter 82
I was thinking about my dad when Sam walked into my room. He sat on the bed.
“What?” I said.
He dug in his pocket and placed a letter on the bed. I stared at it like it was a dead fish.
“Ever seen this before?”
“Yes, sir,” I said.
“Been snooping?”
“More like figuring.”
“Figuring?”
“You told us you killed our father, and then you wouldn’t say anything more. What was I supposed to do, let it go? I looked at some of your letters, yeah.”
Sam nodded. “What did you find out?”
“I haven’t pieced it all together, but I think you used to be in the military and maybe Marshall is a nickname.”
“Go on,” Sam said.
“Well, there’s nobody in town who knows you longer than a few years. I can’t find you in any military database. And the Social Security letter—”
“You opened my Social Security letter?” Sam said.
“It was open. It listed income for only the last four years. But you said you started working when you were a teenager. Why wouldn’t it list income from years before?”
Sam had every right to be mad. He could tell Mom and lock me in my room until I turned 18. Instead he picked up the letter and carefully put it in his shirt pocket. “Come on. It’s time we finish that talk I started a few weeks ago.”
Chapter 83
The scene felt familiar. All of us sat around the living room—except Dylan, who was in his room. Leigh had come out of hibernation and sat with her hair hiding her face. Sam paced in front of the fireplace.
The night had turned colder, and even though it was spring, a gentle snowfall covered the ground.
Sam rubbed his neck and took a breath. “I apologize for leaving you hanging. Part of me wanted to tell you everything, but I’ve been counseled that it was better not to. Now I know it’s important you know the truth. Needless to say, you’re going to have to keep this secret your whole lives.”
He pulled out an envelope. “Bryce found this. I thought it was lost.” He handed it to Leigh. “This is a birthday card I sent Leigh’s mother before we were married. Most everything about my life before is gone, erased.” He looked at Bryce. “I’m glad you found that.”
Sam sat with his back to the fire. “My real name is Marshall Faulkner. My parents still live on a farm in West Virginia, but they don’t know where I am, just that I’m alive. I fly over the farm every now and then and wish I could go back.”
“Why can’t you?” I said.
Sam looked at Mom, then continued. “I was in the army, a special antiterrorist tactical unit. They sent us all over the world. It wasn’t a pleasant assignment, but all of us knew it had to be done.
“Many years ago, when Leigh was about Dylan’s age, we caught up to a really nasty guy named Asim bin Asawe. He was responsible for bombings and the deaths of a lot of innocent American civilians, and he had a bunch of followers doing his dirty work. One night my team and I arrested or killed a couple dozen of his people.
“Asawe got away, and he let us know he’d have his revenge. Somehow he found out about me. Had my name because I was the leader of the team.”
Leigh pulled the hair from her face and sat up, staring wide-eyed at her father.
“Years went by and I took a job in Washington for the defense department.” He bit his lip. “Leigh’s mom always wanted to go to England, had dreamed of visiting castles and walking the moors. So we planned a two-week vacation for the four of us. Everybody was excited. By
Fr: Danny Ingram
I know my mom wrote you, but I wanted to thank you personally for what you did to help me. I don’t deserve how nice some people have been.
Maybe one day you and your brother can come to my parents’ farm and ride horses or something. We have a three-legged dog that needs company.
Anyway, I’m leaving town for a treatment place to try and get my life together. Thanks again for believing me.
Sincerely,
Danny
Chapter 82
I was thinking about my dad when Sam walked into my room. He sat on the bed.
“What?” I said.
He dug in his pocket and placed a letter on the bed. I stared at it like it was a dead fish.
“Ever seen this before?”
“Yes, sir,” I said.
“Been snooping?”
“More like figuring.”
“Figuring?”
“You told us you killed our father, and then you wouldn’t say anything more. What was I supposed to do, let it go? I looked at some of your letters, yeah.”
Sam nodded. “What did you find out?”
“I haven’t pieced it all together, but I think you used to be in the military and maybe Marshall is a nickname.”
“Go on,” Sam said.
“Well, there’s nobody in town who knows you longer than a few years. I can’t find you in any military database. And the Social Security letter—”
“You opened my Social Security letter?” Sam said.
“It was open. It listed income for only the last four years. But you said you started working when you were a teenager. Why wouldn’t it list income from years before?”
Sam had every right to be mad. He could tell Mom and lock me in my room until I turned 18. Instead he picked up the letter and carefully put it in his shirt pocket. “Come on. It’s time we finish that talk I started a few weeks ago.”
Chapter 83
The scene felt familiar. All of us sat around the living room—except Dylan, who was in his room. Leigh had come out of hibernation and sat with her hair hiding her face. Sam paced in front of the fireplace.
The night had turned colder, and even though it was spring, a gentle snowfall covered the ground.
Sam rubbed his neck and took a breath. “I apologize for leaving you hanging. Part of me wanted to tell you everything, but I’ve been counseled that it was better not to. Now I know it’s important you know the truth. Needless to say, you’re going to have to keep this secret your whole lives.”
He pulled out an envelope. “Bryce found this. I thought it was lost.” He handed it to Leigh. “This is a birthday card I sent Leigh’s mother before we were married. Most everything about my life before is gone, erased.” He looked at Bryce. “I’m glad you found that.”
Sam sat with his back to the fire. “My real name is Marshall Faulkner. My parents still live on a farm in West Virginia, but they don’t know where I am, just that I’m alive. I fly over the farm every now and then and wish I could go back.”
“Why can’t you?” I said.
Sam looked at Mom, then continued. “I was in the army, a special antiterrorist tactical unit. They sent us all over the world. It wasn’t a pleasant assignment, but all of us knew it had to be done.
“Many years ago, when Leigh was about Dylan’s age, we caught up to a really nasty guy named Asim bin Asawe. He was responsible for bombings and the deaths of a lot of innocent American civilians, and he had a bunch of followers doing his dirty work. One night my team and I arrested or killed a couple dozen of his people.
“Asawe got away, and he let us know he’d have his revenge. Somehow he found out about me. Had my name because I was the leader of the team.”
Leigh pulled the hair from her face and sat up, staring wide-eyed at her father.
“Years went by and I took a job in Washington for the defense department.” He bit his lip. “Leigh’s mom always wanted to go to England, had dreamed of visiting castles and walking the moors. So we planned a two-week vacation for the four of us. Everybody was excited. By
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