Page 88 of Buried Roots

“No.” Frankie looks at me. “Not yet. We’ll finish this, finish it now. And not here. At the tree where all this started. Take me there, and I’ll tell you everything.”

The tree. Shivers skitter up my spine. Of course, the truth lies at that damn tree.

Once Owen insists on stitching Frankie’s head using the supplies from the medical bag he keeps in the van, we ride in silence; me biting my tongue as my brain attempts to put the pieces of the puzzle together until words rush from my mouth. “You did all that stuff. The note, the face in the barn, hiding my damn keys. How could you? You let Oreo out! Oh, god, the waterline—you cut it! I thought I was losing my mind.”

“I’m sorry.” Her voice is quiet. “I hated doing those things, but I had no choice,” she says.

No choice! What the hell is wrong with this woman?

When we arrive at the creepy-ass tree, Frankie sits, and Owen and I take a seat in front of her.

“So, let’s hear it,” I say, my jaw tight.

Her hands fidget between her knees before she looks at me and says, “I knew your biological mother.”

My blood turns to ice.

“We were close.” She squeezes her eyes shut as she’s getting emotional, but when she opens them, they’re dry. “We met at a home for troubled teens, clicked right away. Kindred spirits. Two teens being knocked around. For me, it was my father. For her, her stepfather first, then her boyfriend. She couldn’t win. Lord knows she tried, then she got knocked up with you. Lily worked at the home—one of the kindest, gentlest souls you ever want to meet.” Frankie’s eyes gloss. “Number one thing you need to know. Annie loved you more than anything in this world.”

My mother loved me.

Something I’ve wanted to know my entire life, and an empty space of my being fills as the information washes over me. But as my brain continues to process everything, I can’t help but think of the memorial we’re sitting on.

My memorial.

I motion to the cross, tilted and weathered, the etched words glaring at me, “In loving memory of our sweet Willow.” I grit, “So, how did this happen?”

“Your father, that’s how.” For a moment, Frankie looks off as if she’s lost in painful thoughts. “Annie left him so many times and went back just as many. It’s such a hard and complicated thing—that abuse cycle. She finally broke free and left him for good.”

Something swells in my chest, and I meet Frankie’s eyes. “She was courageous.”

“As courageous as they come.” Frankie’s lips tick up but then flatline. “But your father wouldn’t let her go. Blake—that’s his name—convinced his so-called buddy, this evil piece of crap, to grab you from her. He thought this would force Annie to take him back. And the POS does it—snatched ya right from your ma’s arms. Beat the crap out of your mother in the process.” Frankie shudders before inhaling a deep breath. “But you, whip smart, even back then, got away from him and ran into the woods. Got yourself good and lost, though. Your mom was lucky to find you alive.”

My jaw goes slack. “My own father was behind that?” So, that’s why I didn’t recognize him. Of course, he pawned off his dirty work.

“Yes, and that wasn’t the end of it. Annie rescued you from the woods but…” Frankie sighs; her expression looks pained. “God, she must’ve been a panicked mess. She was driving way too fast when she veered off the road, crashing head on into this godforsaken tree. Poor Annie. Later, authorities said she’d been under the influence.”

My stomach tumbles off a cliff. Somewhere, I’ve always known this, but I could never quite access the full memory. All I know is that I was so terrified, it stayed with me forever.

Frankie continues, “They brought you and her to the Violet Moon hospital. You both recovered, but Bo and Lily had Nick, my husband, create a fake death certificate for you and helped get you adopted out. Since your father was never caught, we felt it was our only option. We were able to get a restraining order on him. Thankfully, I haven’t heard from him or seen him for a long time now.”

“Oh, my god.” I’m shaking my head. My throat goes bone dry. “But what about my mother? You all just took me from her?”

“No, Willow. She agreed.” Frankie’s voice is hoarse. “Annie made me promise to never tell you or anyone. And I’m sorry. I really am, but every single thing I did was to protect you. Your pa is out free because Annie could never prove what happened. Blake is the worst combination—well-connected and extremely dangerous. Right now, he thinks you’re dead, and that’s a very good thing. Willow,” Frankie leans in and takes my hands, “I’ve never been able to prove it, but I’m certain Blake was behind the explosion that killed my husband and Annie.”

I swallow back the bile rising from my gut.

Frankie’s jaw tenses. A tear rolls down her cheek as she turns to Owen. “I wanted to tell you. All these years—you kept blaming yourself for your pa’s death. It killed me. But there was no way you could’ve prevented it. I wanted to tell you everything so much, Owen, but I couldn’t put our lives in danger. Please understand.”

Gooseflesh covers my arms as I reach for Owen’s hand. I’m not the only one who lost someone in all of this. I can’t believe I didn’t put it together before—how both our parents died on July twentieth. I hope now Owen can let go of his guilt.

Owen’s face softens as he leans over and puts a hand on her shoulder. “You did what you had to do, Ma. I understand that.”

Everyone goes quiet. The only sound is the chirping of crickets. I look up at the night sky to see a cloud cover over the stars. “I can’t tell you what it means to get answers to questions I’ve had all my life, Frankie, but why the tricks? Why burn down my house?” I can’t help but sound indignant.

“I didnotcause that fire. I’ll fess up to the other things, but I didn’t do that. I was just trying to scare you away, never harm you.“ She kicks her foot on a bulging root. “I wanted you to go, to leave and never come back before Blake got word and figured out who you were. I didn’t want him trying to get back into your life, into our lives. And well…”

Frankie looks away as I wait for her to finish.

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