She had pulled along the side of the road in the neighborhood, and for long minutes she merely sat in the truck staring at the house. When she lived in the house it had been painted yellow with white trim. Now the small house was a sand color with navy trim. Shutters had been added to the outside of the windows in the same navy. That wasn’t the only difference. Her mother’s rose bed had been ripped up, replaced with crepe myrtle trees and day lilies. The stone path she had helped her father put down from the rock-lined drive was also gone. In its place was a concrete path that matched the concrete drive. There were no more tears to shed. Ava had given all she had years ago, but that didn’t stop the sadness from descending. Her parents had been happy there once. The three of them had been happy once – before it all fell apart. If she was ever going to move on with her life and shut the door to her past, she had to find her father. No matter how long it took, no matter what she had to do, she had to know where he was.
