Save Her Child by CJ Lyons (best historical biographies txt) 📗

“Yes, sir,” Emily said with a smile. “We only have a week left before school!”

Emily hopped back into the car while Nate walked toward the house, leaving Luka leaning awkwardly on his crutches. “Thanks for the ride,” he said.

Leah bit her lip, her expression blanking—the same way Nate’s did when he was overwhelmed. “Good night.” She secured Emily in her booster seat, then climbed back into the car and drove down the lane.

Luka hobbled inside. Pops and Janine were so thrilled by Nate’s tales of the day at the fair, including the lady with the baby and winning his prizes, that no one asked for any details about Luka’s injury after he said he fell onto a piece of glass, allowing him a respite.

Nate gave him the card from the photography judge. Viola Reed, Fine Art Photography, it read. He flipped it over to where she’d written a note: Your nephew shows promise, I’d love to teach him. Please call me.

Curious, Luka left the others as they celebrated Nate’s victory and went out to the back porch to call the photographer. He leaned his crutches against the wall and sat on the porch swing, hoping to catch any hint of a breeze.

“Ms. Reed?” he said when she answered the phone. “This is Luka Jericho. I’m Nate Jericho’s uncle. You sent him home from the fair with—”

“Mr. Jericho, I’m so excited that you called.” Her voice was warm, her accent local, reflecting the hills and valleys surrounding them. “Nate shows such promise.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there at the fair. I had to work.” He felt the need to explain, to make sure she knew Nate had his family’s support.

“Of course. Well, I won’t keep you from your family or Sunday dinner. I only wanted to extend an offer—but you’ll need to decide fairly quickly.”

“Offer?”

“In addition to my freelance photography business I also teach art at the Cambria Preparatory Academy. You’ve heard of it?”

He rolled his eyes. The exclusive private school boasted of its rich and powerful alumni. “Yes. Actually, I was thinking of it earlier today.” He didn’t explain that it was because the kids responsible for his first murder case were students at Cambria Prep.

“Well, I’m on our fine arts scholarship committee and one of our elementary school pupils had to relinquish their spot in the fall class. I’d love to offer their scholarship to Nate.”

Luka stared at the phone, certain he’d heard wrong. “Nate? But you don’t know anything about him.”

“I know he’s a promising young artist and I believe his talent could flourish here. Give me your email and I’ll send you all the pertinent information. And then we could schedule a tour for this week? I really do hope you’ll consider allowing us to have some part in shaping Nate’s future.”

He gave her his contact information and she hung up. When Luka glanced up, he saw Nate standing in the doorway, Rex at his side. He was staring at him with that all-too-grown-up expression that said he saw and understood more than Luka wanted him to.

“I’m sorry Emily yelled at you earlier,” Luka said. The phone weighed heavy in his hand. This wasn’t his decision alone. Nate’s life had been much too tumultuous and chaotic; he deserved some say in his future. He patted to the seat beside him and Nate joined him on the porch swing, while Rex curled up at their feet. “What would you say if you weren’t in her class this year? You’d still be friends, see each other, but—”

Nate shook his head, cutting him off. “Emily isn’t mad at me. That’s not why she was yelling.”

“It’s okay, Nate. Emily will get over how she feels. You don’t need to make excuses or blame yourself.”

“No, you don’t understand.” He balled his fists in frustration as he searched for words. “She’s not mad.” He pulled out his phone, shoved it at Luka. “Here. Look. Can you see it now?”

Luka studied the image, a candid shot taken of Emily during her meltdown in the car. “You’re right. She’s not angry—”

“She’s sad.” Nate sighed in sympathy with his friend. “It wasn’t me she’s yelling at. She wanted to win first prize. Because she’s always won first prize. At school with tests, when she did stuff with her dad. So she just, just…” He faltered, his vocabulary not keeping up with the complex emotions he was attempting to describe. “She wanted that feeling again. Like she had with her dad. Like he wasn’t gone.”

Not for the first time, Nate’s perception stunned Luka. The boy saw and understood more than most adults. “She misses him.” Luka took another, closer look at the photo. He recognized Emily’s expression as the same one he’d caught on Leah’s face whenever she dropped her guard or thought no one was looking. “She wants things to go back the way they were.” He turned to Nate. “Is that how you feel?”

Nate seemed startled, unused to any adult asking about his feelings. “I miss my mom. But I don’t feel the same as Emily does about her dad. It’s… different, because I never really knew my mom—every time I got close to her, she’d be gone and I’d be back in foster. So maybe it hurt like Emily hurts but a long time ago when I was only a kid. Not now.”

“So, you’re not sad like Emily?” Luka hoped he was mirroring Nate’s feelings correctly. After six months seeing a grief counselor, this was the first time Nate had opened up. Luka didn’t want to say or do anything that might close him back down.

“No, sir.” Nate sounded hesitant and Luka kicked himself for pushing too hard.

“That’s okay,” Luka tried again. “Maybe you feel a little mad—like you did when I didn’t call you about getting hurt like I should have?”

Nate jerked his chin in what could have been a reluctant nod.

“Growing up,” Luka continued, “I was the big brother and