Page 87 of A River of Crows

Ridge clapped his hands together. “Hell yeah, let’s see ’em.”

“Well, there were a lot, plus some other old things you might remember. Why don’t you come over tomorrow night and look?”

Ridge’s posture stiffened. “What about Mom?”

“Well, she’s been drinking a glass of wine every night. If I give her a sleeping pill with it, she’s out. I’m not proud of drugging her, but you don’t know what she’s like now.”

Ridge grimaced. “I’m sorry, Lo. For what happened to her.”

“Well, it wasn’t your fault,” Sloan said. “Whoever took you is to blame.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” There was tension in Ridge’s voice.

Sloan looked him in the eye. “I assume you didn’t run away?”

Ridge jumped to his feet. “I said we weren’t going to talk about this.”

Sloan stood to meet him. “You owe me an explanation. Why can’t you tell me what happened?”

“Because it could get people that I care about in trouble.”

The folded picture of Vince, Libby, and Ridge in her pocket poked against Sloan’s leg. She took a deep breath and then took a chance. If Ridge was getting ready to leave anyway, what did she have to lose? “Libby and Vince, you mean?”

Ridge took a few steps backward and leaned against the giant tree that bore his name. Even from a distance, Sloan saw the sweat dripping from his brow. “What are you suggesting?”

“I’m not suggesting anything.” Sloan pulled the picture out of her pocket. “I found this.”

Ridge stepped forward. “Give it back,” he said.

“You can have it.” Sloan tossed the picture toward him. It fluttered in the air and fell at his feet. “I’m not trying to get them in trouble, Ridge. If I wanted to do that, I could have done it already. I just want answers.”

“So, all this time, you’ve been snooping through my stuff? Why wasn’t I enough?”

“Why weren’t we enough!” Sloan yelled.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re crazy. Like Mom.”

Sloan felt a flush of heat in her face and neck. “Don’t you dare talk about Mom. You don’t even know her.”

Ridge covered his face and lowered himself to the dirt. “It wasn’t my fault.”

Sloan forced herself to calm down. “I know that. You were a kid.”

“Libby and Vince aren’t bad people. They did it for you. We all did it for you.”

For her? Sloan took a few steps closer to Ridge and knelt down to get on his level, just like she’d done when he was young and frightened. “What do you mean?”

“Dad was hurting you, Sloan. You’ve blocked it out, but Mom wouldn’t have lied about that.”

Sloan shook her head. “Dad never hurt me. I didn’t forget.”

“But—”

“Think about it, Ridge. If Dad abused me like Mom said, why would she tell you? A ten-year-old? And what does that have to do with Libby and Vince taking you away? Why not me?”

Ridge looked up at the sky. “They were going to bring me back. They were supposed to bring me back. That was the plan. I’m sorry, Lo.”

“Start from the beginning.”

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