Chapter 17

I stepped out, just in case I was needed.

“I have some bad news,” Lizzie said. “I’m sorry to be the one to have to tell you this.”

His eyebrows drew downward in a frown. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“It’s not,” Lizzie replied looking down at her shoes. “I’m sorry, J.J. Wendy passed away a few weeks ago. She died in a car accident.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head in denial. “That can’t be.”

I didn’t know what to say. The look of agony on my friend’s face broke my heart. A vein pulsed at his forehead. His eyes filled with tears. Abruptly, he walked off.

“J.J...” Lizzie made a move to follow but he held up a hand, as if to warn her to stay back.

I watched him walk along the edge of the fence until he was some distance away, then he stopped and bowed his head. He dropped to his knees, bent forward on his elbows and squeezed fistfuls of his hair while he rocked back and forth.

His despair caused a rise of emotion in me that was almost paralyzing.

I approached Lizzie.

“I don’t know what to do,” she said helplessly.

“Just give him a minute,” I advised her.

Finally, J.J. rose to his feet. He wiped his cheeks with the backs of his hands and turned to face us.

“Why didn’t I know?” he asked looking at Lizzie. “Why didn’t anyone tell me? It was him, wasn’t it?”

“You mean Dad,” Lizzie said.

He nodded. “He didn’t let you call or write. My God, my sister died! Why didn’t you just stand up to him and do it anyway?”

“We didn’t know where you were,” Lizzie argued in her defense. “All this time, we didn’t get single word from you. So please don’t accuse me of not keeping in touch.”

J.J. shuddered and gritted his teeth as he spoke. “I wrote you letters and called a lot of times. Dad said none of you wanted to hear from me. When I met Meg, I tried again, but he threatened me with a restraining order if I continued to write or if I tried to come home. Then my number was blocked. I don’t know what happened with my letters.”

“What about Facebook or something?” Lizzie asked. “You could have friended me.”

“I’d given up by then,” he explained, his tone growing quieter. “After a while, I had to because it was ripping me apart inside. It made everything so much harder.”

We all stood in silence for a long moment, breathing hard beneath the enormous overcast sky. J.J. tilted his head back and looked up at the clouds. They rolled briskly by. “I can’t believe it,” he said, “and that Dad wouldn’t lift the iron curtain, not even for that.”

He pulled his gaze from the sky and looked at his sister with a brotherly apology. “I’m sorry, Lizzie.”

Tears blinded her eyes. “I’m sorry, too,” she replied as she stepped into his open arms.