With nothing to do, I was aware of every … creeping … moment, and it was maddening. I tried to nap, but between anticipation of the night raid on the chapel, and the worry (okay, fear) that Ray might show up in my dreams again, that wasn’t going to happen. C.C. went off to fix the tractor, abandoned in the field yesterday when Gerald was shot. So I was truly at loose ends. I kept checking my phone for any signal. Occasionally I got one bar, but no texts from Joaquim or Emily came through. Then it dinged, and I saw I had a voice mail from Emily. “Hey,” she said. She sounded like an old woman, weak and worn out. “It’s not there. I’ve been looking through his files, I haven’t slept, I haven’t eaten … it’s just not there. It was the last gift he might’ve had for me, Matt, and now I’ll never get it. He really is gone.” The message ended. I tried to call her back, but there wasn’t enough signal for it to go through. I texted her, Hang on. Going to find out tonight.
