Page 58 of Judas

Eliza stood at the familiar door's threshold with a held breath. She didn't want to cry anymore today, but she also understood that was a promise to herself she wasn't likely to keep. It took just a moment for Reba to peer through the side window and open the door.

"Aunt Reba, may I come in?" her voice was heavy as she choked back more tears.

Nodding, Reba moved to the side and opened the door wider. Once inside, the two women stared at each other for a long moment. Eliza noticed her aunt looked a lot more aged than she had even a day ago. Her skin, always tanned and rosy from being in the pool or playing tennis, looked grey. And the small wrinkles around her eyes that come from years of laughter were deeper and pronounced.

"Eliza, sweetheart," Reba choked. "Thank you for helping Chet. You don't know what it means to the both of us."

A pang of guilt hit her heart, but Eliza managed, "Of course. It's the least I can do."

Reba nodded again, "Well, what brings you by?"

"Nevaeh. I'd like to talk to her, if that's alright."

Her aunt considered her for a moment, but agreed, "I think she would like that."

The pair walked through the foyer into the living room and past the kitchen. It was a path Eliza could draw in her sleep. She had so much she wanted to say and yet, the silence between them strangled her.

“I found my mom’s journals,” Eliza blurted.

Reba pulled in a deep sigh, before a wistful smile appeared, “Your mom was always writing in her books. She never wanted to forget anything…the good, the bad. It was important to her. I always thought she would have made a damn fine lawyer too.”

“She wrote about him…the day she died.”

Her aunt stopped in her tracks. The memory of Catherine’s passing fell over her like a shadow and Eliza watched it darken the woman’s eyes, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

Movement through the dining room door drew the pair’s attention, as Dave came into frame in the doorway.

"Hey," he called out. Eliza's heart beat fiercely because their last meeting had been an all out attack, but in the same instant, she knew it was for good reason. He was only protecting his baby sister.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you," he apologized, holding out his hand. When she took it, he pulled Eliza into a tight hug. "And thank you for helping my Dad."

Eliza melted into that embrace. Dave and the rest of the Branson offspring were the siblings she never had and it was killing her that her father caused them any pain.

Pulling back, her eyes met his, "I will make this right. Uncle Chet isn't going to spend any time in jail if I have anything to do with it."

"We appreciate that."

Reba gave her son a tight smile, "She wants to talk to your sister."

His head nodded in agreement and the women set off up the stairs. They reached a dark oak door; a sign in glitter spelling out Neveah's name hung on a tiny hook at eye level. Eliza's stomach lurched as her eyes focused on the handmade keepsake.

"Veah?" Reba knocked lightly on the door. "You have a visitor."

"Come in."

Her aunt placed a hand on Eliza's arm and did her best to look at peace, but she knew it was a lie. How could anyone possibly be able to comfort another in a time like this?

Eliza opened the door to find Neveah sitting criss-cross on her bed with a book. Her room was still tidy, like always, and it smelled faintly sweet like caramelized sugar. She recognized it immediately as her de facto sister's perfume.

"Hey, Nevaeh…is it alright if I come in to talk?" Eliza's tone was soft as if she might scare the young woman and that was the last thing she wanted.

She nodded, "Yeah…I'd like that."

Eliza took a look around the room for a place to sit. Grabbing the plush pink office chair from the desk, she placed it close enough to Neveah that she could hold her hand, if she needed.

"Look, Veah—" she tried to ease into a conversation but was cut short.

"You want to know what Uncle Paul did, don't you?" Neveah's sharp green eyes narrowed.

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