Page 44 of You're My Person - For Always

She hesitated for a moment, then reached for the pull tab. Her fingers trembled slightly as she slowly pulled it open. Her eyes widened as she looked back at him.

"You used to draw all the time." He stepped beside her. "You were always giving me papers you'd sketched on."

"Oh, God. They were probably so bad." She leaned against him.

"I still have them," he whispered.

"You do?"

"Every single one. They're in a box in the apartment above the garage."

She sighed happily. "I never expected you to keep them."

Hell, he used to study each picture as if it would give him the answers he needed to get inside her head. She would never know how much they meant to him.

"You don't have to draw if you don't want—"

"Are you kidding me?" She threw her arms around him. "Ever since we arrived, I've thought of how nice it would be to sketch the view and remember this day forever."

"What are you waiting for?" He kissed her hard and stepped back. "Go ahead."

"Now?"

He shrugged. "I'm in no hurry. The sun won't go down for a couple more hours."

There was no hesitation. She grabbed the duffle with her free hand and led him back to the edge of the peak.

"Sit." She pointed to the ground.

He thought of arguing that he was too old to sit in the dirt, but her look meant business, and he couldn't turn her down. Lowering himself to the ground, he groaned when a rock dug into his hip. She stepped between his legs and sat down in front of him.

For several minutes, she went through all her supplies. Ultimately picking out a pack of pencils. The woman at the art store claimed they were perfect for sketching. Then, Kena lifted out the smaller sketchpad. She leaned her back against his chest, propped her knees up, and put the pencil on paper.

He never took his eyes off the paper as she made the view come to life in front of him.

Chapter Twenty

Kenna

––––––––

River closed the dishwasher. Kenna threw the dishcloth into the sink. Each day that passed without a phone call from the prison approving their visit with her dad made her think they were waiting for nothing.

"I'm just saying, if we go and talk to the person who handles the forms, maybe we can find out when the papers will get put in front of the judge." She planted her hands on her hips. "I'll drive."

"No." River walked out of the kitchen.

Frustrated, she followed her sister. "Why not?"

"Because, we have to wait until we hear from the prison."

"Have you Googled to find out how they treat prisoners on death row?" She stopped at the base of the stairs as her sister walked up the steps. "He gets twenty minutes outside in a pen, no bigger than a dog kennel, three times a week. Most dogs are treated better than him."

River whirled around at the top of the stairs. "He killed people, Kenna. When are you going to get that through your head? He's not on vacation. They're going to kill him for what he's done."

Her heart pounded in her chest. "Don't—"

"They will, and there's nothing we can do to stop them." River raised her arms. "I don't even think we should try to see him."

---