Page 19 of A Sister's Secret

The bell above the café door jingled as Lisa strode in, her breath forming soft clouds that mingled with the rich scent of ground coffee. The familiar, comforting buzz of conversation and clinking dishes wrapped around her like a warm embrace, but her mind was elsewhere, churning with the potential breakthrough she had just uncovered. Marianne, their now full-time employee, greeted her with a big smile and a huge “Hi Lisa.” It had been a week since Lisa had been there—since she left with the children, but she was happy to see that the café was still doing well.

The question was whether Oliver was.

Lisa maneuvered through tables of patrons, her eyes searching until they landed on the woodwork shop adjacent to the café. There, amidst the sawdust and the golden glow of afternoon light streaming through the windows, was Oliver. He stood at his workbench, sandpapering a piece of cedar with hands that told tales of years spent at sea, now tenderly shaping wood.

Lisa felt her heart race in her chest.

"Oliver," Lisa called softly, not wanting to startle him.

He looked up, his gaze locking with hers, and everything else fell away for a moment. His presence was a steady anchor, and the fact that his eyes were clear and his stance sure—signs of his sobriety—fueled an indescribable warmth in her chest.

"Hey," he said, setting down his tools as a gentle smile graced his rough-hewn features. "Everything okay?"

"Better than okay," she replied, her voice a mixture of excitement and nervous energy. She approached him, the evidence of their past struggles and shared resilience reflected in the way they instinctively reached for each other's hands. "I found something—a lead."

Oliver's brow furrowed with intrigue as he wiped his hands on his apron and gave her his full attention. This was the man she loved and trusted, the one who had weathered storms both literal and metaphorical by her side.

"Tell me," he urged, his pulse quickening with the gravity of the moment.

Lisa unfolded the copy of the article she had brought, laying it gently on the workbench. As Oliver leaned over to examine it, she recounted the details: the hiker, the mountains, the woman who could be Michelle.

"Here," she pointed to the part where the hiker described the woman he'd seen.

Oliver's eyes scanned the lines, widening as the implications hit him. A myriad of emotions flickered across his face—hope and fear danced a delicate tango as he absorbed the words.

"Could it really be her?" he whispered, almost to himself.

"It's the best lead we've had so far, Oliver. I spoke to Detective Ramirez, who has looked through the case for me, and this is in the same area where her body was found in a cabin. He gave me the location of the cabin so we could go check it out, like Travis suggested. And I wrote down the hiker’s contact information. We can reach out to him and ask him about what he saw that day, even though it was ten years ago," Lisa said, her fingers trembling slightly with the weight of the possibility before them.

Oliver straightened up, the craftsman's precision in his movements now replaced by an intensity that mirrored Lisa's determination. In his eyes, she saw the reflection of all their shared dreams and the silent fears that lurked in the quiet hours of the night.

"Are you sure you want to do it?” he asked. “After everything that has happened?”

She smiled, then nodded. “Yes. It might be good for us.”

“Okay, then, let’s go," he said, the resolve in his voice matching the unwavering strength she knew so well. "Let's find out the truth about what happened to Michelle."

Their shared resolve hung in the air, palpable and potent. The thrill of the chase, the drive to uncover hidden truths, and the hope of bringing closure to a long-standing wound in their family's heart converged in this single, heart-stopping moment. Lisa fully believed this could heal their marriage, and there was nothing she wanted more. Seeing Oliver sober had given her new hope.

Together, they stood in the woodwork shop, surrounded by the comforting scent of cedar and the tangible evidence of Oliver's craftsmanship. But their minds were already journeying beyond the safety of their small town into the rugged expanse of the mountains that held secrets waiting to be unearthed.

Lisa's fingers worked methodically, folding clothes into a duffel bag with an efficiency born from years of motherhood. Her mind raced as she mentally checked off the essentials they would need for the trip into the mountains. Already in the garage, Oliver was loading up his old truck with camping gear and provisions, the clatter of equipment punctuating the urgency of their mission.

"Lisa, do you think Maggie would mind watching the kids while we're gone?" Oliver called out, his voice tinged with concern.

"Already asked her," Lisa replied, her voice steady despite the fluttering in her stomach. "She insisted, said it'd be her pleasure to have them. I told her we didn’t know how long we would be gone, but she didn’t mind, she said."

Maggie, ever the guardian angel of their small community, had become family in all but blood, especially over the past week when Lisa had been living in her home. Lisa knew that, with Maggie, the children would be more than just looked after—they would be cherished. Hopefully, once they returned, they could be a family again and move back into their home.

With the car packed, they shared a brief, charged glance, each acknowledging the weight of what lay ahead. Both of them were happy to be together once again. Lisa was happier than ever to see Oliver’s blue eyes clear and sober.

The engine roared to life, and they pulled away from the familiarity of home and headed toward the unknown.

As the town's quaint houses gave way to open road, Lisa felt the tension easing from Oliver's shoulders, his hands less white-knuckled on the steering wheel. Their conversation turned to Michelle, Oliver's lost sister. Each memory surfaced like precious gems—her laugh, so like Oliver's; the way she could spin a tale and have them all believing in magic; her adventurous spirit that seemed to beckon her toward the wilds of the mountains.

"When she was little, she used to hide in the woods, saying she'd found a fairy ring. It would scare the heck out of our mom," Oliver said, a faint smile curving his lips.

Lisa nodded, her hazel eyes reflecting the sunlight that streamed through the canopy of trees lining the road, while Oliver continued:

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