His Love Was My Poison novel · Chapter 24 of 48

Chapter 24: November

We left Pittsburgh at five in the morning, the three of us, with a thermos of Micah's terrible coffee.

Posy slept for the first two hours.

Somewhere in Maryland, she woke up and shoved the phone between the front seats.

"Len. Look. The Army posted it."

It was a photo from a desert somewhere far away.

A young soldier in a dusty helmet crouched beside a concrete well, holding our kit in both hands.

The light on the screen was red.

Under it, the caption said: Arsenic found in a village well. Water rerouted. Nobody drank it.

I looked at the words.

Micah reached over and squeezed my knee.

"Four thousand of those," he said quietly. "Out there right now."

"Four thousand and six," said Posy. "We sent six spares."

The old cemetery looked the same as it had a year before.

There were no cameras this time.

No microphone stand.

No crowd.

Just a dusty pickup at the top gate, and the groundskeeper raking leaves.

He looked up when we passed and touched the brim of his cap.

"Morning, ma'am," he said. "The distant relative."

"Not even that," I said. "Just visiting."

He nodded.

Royce stood a little way off from the headstone, in a plain wool coat, with his hands in his pockets.

He looked rested.

He nodded to me, and to Micah, and didn't come any closer.

Kit was kneeling in front of the stone.

He jumped up when he saw us and ran down the path, and then remembered himself and slowed to a dignified walk.

"Len. You came."

"You asked."

"Hi, Posy."

"Hi, Kit. Your hair's different."

"It's shorter."

"It's better," she said, and Kit went red to the ears.

He took my hand and pulled me up to the stone.

His grandparents' names were at the top.

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