Page 63 of The Unmaking of June Farrow

Beside me, Esther was quiet.

“What will you tell them when I’m gone again?” I asked.

Her eyes cut to me, revealing that it wasn’t the first time she’d thought about it. In fact, she and Eamon had likely already discussed the subject.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

The ominous tone in her answer made me wonder if they’d tell people I’d died. When Susanna had put me back through that door, leaving me in 1989, they’d let people believe she’d lost a daughter. They’d even erected a headstone with my name on it. Esther and Eamon could tell the town anything they wanted: that I’d run off and left my family for good, or maybe even that I’d thrown myself from the falls like one of the other lost souls of Jasper. Was that what they’d tell Annie, too, when she was old enough to ask why she didn’t have a mother?

Whether the town would really believe it was another thing. Eamon’s concern wasn’t unfounded. The line between suspicion and fear was a thin one. Jasper was like the still, serene surface that was visible on the deepest parts of the river. It was the undertow you had to worry about.

“You said Eamon had to let his help go. Why?”

Esther looked at me. “Same reason anyone would have to. He couldn’t pay them.”

“What’s going to happen to his farm?”

She didn’t answer right away. “I can’t see into the future, June. If you’re asking what Ithinkwill happen, I suppose it’s only a matter of time until he loses it. Maybe not for another couple of harvests, but I’m not sure there’s a way to recover his losses.”

“What happened?”

“Well, you left. Things were already tight, but the two of you were making it work, turning out enough crop to keep you afloat. We helped where we could, but there was only so much we could do since that was our busiest time at the flower farm. He lost a large portion of the harvest, couldn’t keep the help on, so he planted significantly less this year to tend it himself.”

I stared into the dashboard, that vision of him disappearing into the tall tobacco projected across my mind. The flash of his white T-shirt as the leaves swallowed him up, the last sight of him gone.

“I suppose if you really want to know, you can find out when you go back,” she said.

I looked at her, resisting that slow churn in the pit of my stomach. She was right. How hard could it be to retrace Eamon Stone’s steps and find out what became of him, where he went, when I returned to my time? But the idea of goingbackmeant something different now. It wasn’t just returning to the place I knew; it was also letting go of everything I’d learned since I’d been here. I didn’t know how to just pick up my life again and go on like my entire world hadn’t changed. I didn’t know how to move on from this.

“Dammit.” Esther’s eyes went to the rearview mirror, her hands tightening on the steering wheel.

I turned around, peering through the dusty back window. Behind us, a police car had appeared, the single red light on its roof flashing. I exhaled unevenly before I faced forward, watching the car in the side mirror.

“Dammit,” she said again, reaching toward the glove compartment. It fell open, nearly hitting my knees, and she reached inside.

She moved so fast that I barely saw what she had hold of before she dropped it into the pocket of her door. It was a handgun.

My heart broke into a sprint. “What the hell are you…?”

“Listen to me.” She cut me off, eyes still on the mirror.

The police car was getting closer.

“June!” Esther’s voice rose.

When I finally looked at her, the truck was beginning to slow.

“You were home all night,” she said, one of her hands reaching out to take hold of my sleeve.

“What?”

“That night, you were home. With Eamon and Annie. Just the three of you.”

I searched her face, the panic in her eyes now flooding into my own veins. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Just say it!” Her hoarse whisper made me tremble. “Repeat what I just told you.”

“I was home,” I stammered, trying to remember. “All night.”