Lilith stood behind that market stand by the road every summer. People often drove for miles just to get to her for her sun-sweetened fruits and vegetables. The sweet summer corn was always a favorite, and this year some of it was particularly big and robust. Rich soil nourished the plants and made them strong and healthy. She pled silently with the people who came to the farm stand not to buy it.
In the intensifying heat of the afternoon, she felt tired and sluggish. Like a shell of herself. All she wanted to do was lie down and close her eyes. If she found a place that was shady enough, she might be able to fall asleep. Then she could dream. Those were her favorite moments. The ones when she was taken to a place and a time when none of this existed.
She didn’t need to be someone else in her dreams. She wanted to be herself. Just not here. It gave her a chance to live another life.
But the long, dark car reminded her how far away those dreams were. It slid slowly past the stand and turned around a corner no one else ever turned down. This life held onto her tight and would never let go. That was the choice she made.
So long ago, she‘d thought blood bought her freedom.
Now she knew she was the price that was paid.
Draping a length of burlap over the open bushels of vegetables and flipping the sign that hung from a piece of frayed twine on a nail in the side of the stand to ‘closed’, Lilith rushed toward the house. They were already standing outside the car when she got there.
One of the men walked ahead of the others as he came toward her. She could still feel his name in her mouth, the way it used to ripple over her tongue. There was a time when she loved the way it felt falling from her lips. It warmed everything in her. It had been years since she’d said it.
He reached out his hands toward her as he got closer. Lilith tried not to show her hesitation. She never knew what was meant by those hands.
They took hers gently that day, holding them in soft, unburdened palms. Hers felt even more worn and battered against them.
“Has anyone come here today, Lilith?” he asked.
The question struck her as odd, but like his hands, she never knew what was meant by his words. She didn’t push back against them.
“There have been a few people. The corn has been popular so far. We had someone ask for honey.”
“We?” he asked, his eyes suddenly flashing.
He didn’t yell, but the edge in his voice grew sharp. She didn’t let her expression change.
“You and me,” she said.
He nodded, touching her face like he used to.
“Of course. I’m not talking about the stand. Has anyone else come here today?”
She looked at him, confused. No one ever came. Just them, the customers to the stand, and the fall visitors come to run through the maze. No one else.
“No,” she said.
He looked at her for a long time before nodding.
“Someone might. If they do, you know what to say.”
She nodded. She always knew what to say.
Chapter Twenty-Six
"Why do you think she didn't publicize her involvement with Xavier Renton more?"
Sam looks over at me. “What do you mean?”
“We were just talking about how she was using her fame as leverage to help these innocent people, or at least the people she thinks were innocent. She went from reveling in her visibility to trying to minimize it, to using it as a platform. But I didn't even realize she had anything to do with Renton’s case until I saw that one article mention it, almost as an afterthought. It's strange.”
“Unless she wasn't completely sure about it either,” Sam replies. “As I told you, he's difficult to communicate with. He doesn't really make connections with people, and when he does, they rarely have any idea what he's trying to get across to them. He'll go through moments of lucidity, then suddenly start ranting about other, completely unrelated things. If it's really important to Lakyn Monroe to help people who were wrongly convicted, she would want to make sure she was helping genuinely innocent people.”
“I guess you're right. She wouldn't want to align herself with someone she didn't trust. Or to associate her name with somebody who would later turn out to be guilty. She would want to make sure she was confident in his innocence before she really made it public,” I nod.
What started as our early morning jog has lengthened out to a casual stroll around town. This is a time of day a lot of people don't get to see, but I love. The wispy early morning hours when everything looks somewhat blue, and there's usually a fine mist in the air. Soon it will be burned off by the sun and by people waking up and starting their days, but for now, it's quiet and peaceful.
Sam and I don't always manage to get out for jogs before the sun is all the way up. But I love it when we do. It makes the day feel full of potential, as if there's more that can be accomplished. Sam's schedule is packed for the day, so we are trying to steal every second together we possibly can before he goes to work. That means taking a few back roads and walking through town rather than jogging our usual route.
“I wonder what caught her attention about him,” Sam muses. “You said the article mentioned it wasn't clear whether she was the one who helped get him a new trial, but I don't think she
