Chapter 10: The Fellowship Hall

The fellowship hall smelled of burnt coffee and lemon bars.

Sixty people sat on folding chairs in a wide circle, holding paper cups.

Judith stood at the head of it in a pale blue suit, with her pearls on and her hands pressed together.

Laney sat beside her in dark glasses. Damon sat on her other side. Donald stood alone by the back wall.

I came through the double doors pushing Quinn's wheelchair.

The talking stopped.

A friend from the port had driven him over in a van.

He wore a clean work shirt and a stern face, and he looked at no one but me.

"Lena." Judith's voice was warm, and her eyes were wet. "We saved you a seat. Come, sit down, honey."

"Thank you, Judith."

I parked Quinn at the end of the circle and stayed on my feet.

"We're gathered today to pray for Laney," Judith told the room. "She's had a terrible week, and she's been very brave."

Heads nodded. Someone said amen.

"Lena has something she wants to say to all of us."

She smiled at me, kind and certain. She was sure I had come to give her what she'd asked for.

"I do," I said.

I took my phone out of my purse and held it up.

"Last Thursday night, a man was hit by a car on the road past the cemetery."

"The driver left him in a ditch."

The room went still.

"The police have been told that the driver was me."

Someone whispered. A woman in the second row covered her mouth.

"They were told that by my sister-in-law."

"And by my husband, who swore I left our house between eight and ten that night."

Damon stood up. "Lena. This isn't the place."

"It's exactly the place."

I pressed play.

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