The journey to Greg's house was quieter than Margaret expected.
Christy sat beside her, her hands folded in her lap, occasionally glancing towards the window. Harold and Charity followed in the car behind them, with Calum driving. None of them seemed particularly interested in speaking. There was too much to process, too much that had been uncovered in a single day.
Christy had spent years believing that the people who once mattered to her had moved on without her. Now she was going to see them again.
Margaret reached across and took her hand.
"Are you all right?"
Christy looked at her daughter.
"I don't know."
"You don't have to be."
A faint smile crossed Christy's face, but it disappeared almost immediately.
Christy looked back through the window.
"What if I see Grey?"
Margaret hesitated.
"You're right, he might be there. I didn't even think about that. Do you want to go back home?, we can do that. "
Christy's fingers tightened around hers.
