Part 55

The ride was home was quiet. When they walked into the house, it was even quieter. Looking at her husband for the first time since leaving the doctors, Charlotte said, "I'm going upstairs." Peering over his wire frames, he didn't say a word. He didn't follow her.

Upstairs, changed into her elastic waisted fleece pants and one of Sam's sweatshirts, Charlotte retreated under her covers, taking her lap top with her. Not thinking about her mother, father, her children or husband, she opened up a fresh text file and taking a deep breath, started the write. The question what to write crossed her mind as her laid her fingers on the keyboard. It doesn't matter, , was the answer that quickly followed. For in writing, she found a calmness, and that was exactly what she needed.

On her 19th birthday, Jessie with her car keys jingling in her hand, waved good bye to her parents, John and Elizabeth Byrd, said she's be back in an hour and then promptly disappeared. That was eleven years ago. Could the body they dug up near the abandoned mine be hers? Her mother refused to believe it. In her heart she knew her daughter was still alive. In their picture window she kept a Christmas candle burning.

Who are you holding out hope for now? Charlotte didn't have an answer. Not for her stream of consciousness story, or for her own life. Live was just too fleeting. It was frigging yesterday when she and Sam got married. It seemed like this morning when Sarah, then Jessie and Lovie were born. Would she be burying her own mother later this afternoon? A tear coursed down her left cheek.

"Mrs. Byrd," it was Lt. Drew, the Officer that handled the cold cases, on the phone, "do you recall whether Jessie wore a black leather chocker with barbed decorations?"

Elizabeth couldn't believe her ears; black leather, barbed decorations? "No, not my Jessie."

The line went silent. "I'm sorry, but you have the wrong girl. Your calling the wrong parents."

"Mrs. Byrd, due to the start of the body the coroner has only been able to make a partial dental match."

More silence.

"Mrs. Byrd, I'm pretty sure that we've found your daughter."

"Well, I'm not." And with that Elizabeth hung up the phone.

Charlotte's fingers were poised on the keys, waiting for the next story line to pop into her head when there was a soft knock upon her door. Leaving Jessie and Elizabeth's world behind, she answered, "Who is it?"

"It's me, dear, your mother. May I come in?"

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