Bran grinned and told her there was a whole world beyond that boring rural place, and that after everything she had endured she deserved to experience all of it.
Emmy admitted that she was nervous, but excited as well.
Clara reached across the table, squeezed her hand, and told her they would take everything 1 day at a time.
They finished their drinks and kept the conversation light until the evening wound down.
Clara glanced at her watch and said they should go back, since the next day would be a long one.
The 3 of them said their goodbyes, Bran wishing them well in the fresh start ahead.
Clara and Emmy stepped out of Miller’s Tavern into the cool night air and walked toward Clara’s car.
Once she had settled into the driver’s seat, Clara glanced into the rearview mirror and froze.
At the far end of the lot, a man had just stepped from a parked car to meet 2 others in the shadows.
Something about his profile, the way he held himself, struck her as hauntingly familiar.
She whispered David’s name.
Emmy immediately noticed the change in her and asked what was wrong.
Clara kept staring into the mirror, but by then the 3 men had already entered the tavern and disappeared from view.
After a moment she shook her head and said it was nothing, that she had only thought she had seen someone she knew, though that could not be possible.
Emmy asked if she was all right to drive and suggested they could take a cab instead, but Clara insisted she was fine.
She had barely touched her drink and was simply tired.
As they drove back along the quiet country roads toward their temporary apartment, Emmy broke the silence and asked whether, once they were in Asheville, they might look into treatment for her birthmark.
Clara glanced at her in surprise and asked why she would want to do that.
The port-wine stain, she said, was beautiful and special.
Emmy sighed and admitted that in the tavern she had noticed people staring—not only girls, but men as well—as if she were some sort of freak.
Clara gently countered that not everyone was like that and reminded her that Bran certainly did not see her in that way.
Emmy acknowledged that some people either appreciated it or at least did not judge her, but wondered what it would be like in Asheville if it was already so noticeable in a small rural place.
Clara told her that Asheville was smaller than she might imagine and that the community there was open-minded and accepting.
Even so, she could see uncertainty lingering in Emmy’s eyes.
Clara then spoke softly and told her that this was an enormous change, that the whole week had altered her life.
They should take things 1 step at a time.
If later she still felt strongly about treatment, they could explore the options.
It would be expensive, but Clara would support her if it was truly what she wanted.
Emmy asked whether birthmarks usually faded over time.
Clara said that sometimes they did, but that Emmy’s had always been stubborn.
Emmy smiled faintly and said that sounded like her.
Looking out the window into the darkness, she said they should focus first on rebuilding their lives, and perhaps later she could find work in Asheville after they had settled in.
When they reached the apartment building and stepped from the car, Clara instinctively took Emmy’s hand.
She told her she was not alone anymore, and that whatever came next they would face it together.
Emmy squeezed her hand in return, and together they entered the building.
The next morning dawned clear and bright.
Clara was already dressed and moving briskly around the apartment, checking that everything was packed for the return to Asheville, when the intercom buzzed.
She crossed to the wall unit and saw Detective Gary Holden on the small screen.
He greeted her professionally and told her they were there to escort them back to Asheville.
She let him in.
Emmy emerged from the bathroom with damp hair and asked whether it had been Gary.
Clara answered that it had, and that he was there to take them home.
Even saying the word home with her daughter nearby sent a thrill through her.
A knock sounded at the door.
Clara opened it, prepared to see only the detective, and found instead a figure standing behind him, travel-worn but unmistakable.
It was David Marin, her ex-husband and Emmy’s father.
Clara gasped and asked what he was doing there, since she had thought he was still in Colorado.
David smiled, the familiar creases forming at the corners of his eyes, and said he had wanted to surprise them both.
He stepped forward, shook Gary’s hand, and explained that he had flown in that morning, gone straight to the police station, and joined the detective.
Emmy stood still, staring at the father she had never known.
Her eyes darted between Clara and David, searching their faces for some resemblance or connection.
David looked at her with obvious emotion and said she must be Emmy, and that he could not say how long he had waited for that moment.
A smile spread across her face, charmed by the unexpected reunion.
It was nice to meet him, she said, and the word Dad sounded strange yet somehow right.
Clara, however, could not shake the memory of the previous night.
She asked David whether he had been at Miller’s Tavern, because she was nearly certain she had seen someone who looked exactly like him in the parking lot.
David remained casual and said no.
As he had already explained, he had arrived only that morning and gone straight to the police station to meet Gary.
He winked and joked that perhaps she had missed him so much that she had started seeing things.
Clara began to object, then stopped herself.
David turned back to Emmy and said that even though everything was happening under unusual circumstances, he was deeply happy that the 3 of them could be together again.
Gary cleared his throat and reminded them that if they were ready, they should leave, since it was a 2-hour drive back to Asheville.
David and the detective carried the suitcases downstairs while Emmy followed with visible excitement.
Clara lingered behind briefly to check out at the front desk.
While waiting for the clerk to process the paperwork, she glanced at her phone and realized she had not checked her messages since the day before.
Among the work-related emails was one from Laya Dalton, the photographer whose work had led her to Emmy.
Curious, Clara opened it.
Laya wrote that she happened to be in Asheville with a journalist on another assignment and would love to meet Clara for coffee at 3 p.
m.
that day if she was available to speak about the reunion.
They were considering covering the remarkable story if she was willing to share it.
At the end of the message was a postscript saying they would prefer to meet with Clara alone in order to capture the story from her perspective, and that they would contact Emmy separately at a later date.
Clara frowned.
Why would they want to separate them? Perhaps, she thought, they simply wanted her unfiltered emotions without Emmy present.
The timing felt strangely convenient.
How did Laya know they would be in Asheville that day? On rereading the email, Clara noticed that Laya had mentioned being in the city for another assignment.
Perhaps she had simply remembered that Clara lived there.
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