Page 16 of Only One More Lie

“We’ve been very blessed with a lot of business. I can’t complain in that regard. Of course, I wish my mom and dad were here to see it.” Her eyes misted.

Andi leaned forward, her expression turning more serious. “Could you tell us what happened on the day your parents died?”

Juniper’s hands began to tremble uncontrollably.

Then she started the next part of her story.

CHAPTER 6

DECEMBER, LAST YEAR

Juniper stepped into the winter twilight outside, still curious about the three sets of footprints. Something about the situation felt off.

Tundra barked beside her, urging her to keep moving.

A bad feeling brewed in her gut, and her throat tightened as she walked across the snowy field toward the cold, gray barn. The frigid wind brushed her nose until it tingled. If she wasn’t careful, the tip would dry out and start to peel.

“Mom!” Juniper called again, her voice disappearing with the wind.

The shout had been useless but worth a try.

The footsteps ended at the barn, just as she’d suspected.

At the door, she hesitated. Something internal told her to stop. To turn around.

To run.

But she couldn’t. She had to know where her parents were. If they were okay.

Maybe this was all just a big misunderstanding. Maybe she would open the doors and find her parents working on a special Christmas project. They’d talked about creating Santa’s sleigh, something majestic the kids visiting would love.

That was probably it.

Maybe they’d brought one of their workers with them to help with any heavy lifting—which would explain the third set of footprints.

That was the most logical explanation.

Juniper wanted to laugh at herself. She’d most likely gotten worked up for nothing.

Mom had probably just been distracted and forgotten about the cornbread in the oven.

Silly, Juniper.

It wouldn’t be the first time her imagination had gotten the best of her. Her parents liked to say she had an active fantasy life. She neededsomethingto do out here in the middle of nowhere.

Tundra barked again, as if reminding her to hurry.

Juniper shoved the doors open and stepped out of the icy breeze.

Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the darkness inside.

Blinking, she glanced at the ground and saw the footprints had ended. Of course. There wasn’t any snow in here. Only a tractor, two UTVs, and some old furniture her father couldn’t bear to part with—despite her mother’s protests.

Tundra ran inside, his bark turning even more furious.

The tension across her chest pulled tighter.

“Mom?” Her voice sounded weak as fear spread through her. All the earlier reassurances she’d told herself disappeared.

---