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another look at the gaunt-faced man behind me. I can’t believe he’s here. After all these years. I’d never have recognized Dennis if he hadn’t sent a photograph to prepare me for our first meeting. He’s shrunk in height and in girth. Stooped, sinewy, sucked-in. Not the husky, long-haired hippy of twenty years ago.

“I mean when the shit hits the fan you might be the last person they’ll want to see. At first, anyway. You’ll be like a turd in a bakery.” He starts to chuckle at his own joke. He’s lost a few teeth, but his eyes are still young and lively. “Nobody likes it when you mess with their family. Ask me. I’m the expert. I nearly decked a few of those do-gooder social workers when they wouldn’t let me see you.”

Dennis has chin length choppy gray hair now. He told me he cut his long hair when he found out about Birdie.

“You’ve got real family now, Anna. Your mother’s folks. They’re up in Fond Du Lac. A whole bunch of them waiting to meet you when we bring Birdie home. Aunties, uncles, cousins. Maybe even a couple of little bastard half brothers and sisters I don’t know about,” he says, winking.

But I’m not laughing right now. The thought of all those strange people I’ve never met scares me, and right now the only person I know that loves me is about to get up and leave. Guy looks so helpless. He’s a gentle, good man. He doesn’t deserve any of this.

“Just kidding,” says Dennis, the smile leaving his face. “I’m clean now. No booze or drugs for eight years. Your mother’s people helped me out. Rented me a two-bed log cabin on the riverside and gave me a whole lot of family love to make me feel human again. I do some hunting, fishing, cut the grass at the local golf course. Clear the snow in the winter. I’m set. I thought I was all alone in the world just like you do now, but there’s no need to be lonely when there’s people who love you. I know it’ll be a bit strange at first but these are good people. You’ll see.”

He tugs at my sleeve. We have a flight to catch.

“Just give me another minute, Dennis,” I say. I can barely see Guy now through the tears that turn everything hazy. It’s like tearing off a Band-Aid. I should rip it off quickly so it doesn’t hurt.

My body aches for Guy. And then I remember something I read on the internet. About this couple who’d been married for sixty-three years. When the wife was dying with cancer, the husband sat for days beside her bed and massaged her callused old feet because it made her feel good. That’s the kind of intimacy and devotion Guy promised me.

I’ll never find someone like him again. And it kills me to think of all the pain he’ll endure when his family is destroyed. How will he cope? What about Nancy? I can’t even think about it.

Now the cops have the file and Gord will be arrested, the story will soon be all over the news, and the empire will crumble. Any time now Guy will go back to the hotel and find the note I left him. I feel like a coward explaining it all in a note. Maybe he’ll get the call. From Nancy. Maybe from the cops.

In the note I said I love him and I’ll be there to support him if he cares to find me. I also told him about Birdie and Gord and how this was all about justice for the sister I loved and lost. If he’s really the man I fell in love with, he’ll understand. He’ll be on my side.

Then I told him I have to go away for now and do one last thing for my sister.

I have to bring her home to a family that will honor her memory, then lay her to rest somewhere peaceful and untouched. Somewhere clean where trees grow and snow falls, where the sun shines and rain cools the ground. Where life is treasured.

And I already know what the headstone will say.

A kind and gentle soul

Who gave the world so much joy

And only asked for love in return.

My sister.

In body and spirit.

Birdie was here.

Dennis lays his hands on my shoulders again. “Listen to me,” he says, turning me around to face him. “I have to live every day with what I did to you and Birdie. Abandoning you like that. Maybe if I’d tried harder, stuck around, she’d still be here. But I didn’t. I let it go. I let her go. If you love him, maybe you shouldn’t run. Maybe that’s taking the coward’s way out.”

Guy’s on his phone again but he’s not calling me. He stands up, clasping the phone to his ear for a few moments, then his arm falls loosely to his side. He flops onto a nearby bench, his arms splayed out at his sides. He knows about Gord.

I look back at Dennis. His eyes are moist and weary looking, the lids wrinkled and drooping at the corners.

“Maybe you can save him, Anna. Make something good of your life. I’ll wait here for you. I’m not going anywhere this time.”

He squeezes my shoulder again and I lean in and hug his bony shoulders, then I step out from the shadows into the glare of sunlight.

“Come with me,” I say softly, reaching my hand out behind me. This feels unfamiliar – a show of weakness and vulnerability. And yet this is Dennis, my father. Father. I roll that word around on my tongue. It’s sweet like candy.

He follows as I move out from the cool of the alleyway into the blazing wall of heat in the plaza. Guy spots us, his brow wrinkling at the sight of this shrunken old man padding along behind. I put a hand to my face to shield my eyes from the glare. Guy

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