Her Silent Revenge novel Chapter 113

"Salem," Evelyn says, sipping her coffee. She smiles over the rim, just enough to show a flash of teeth and a soft crinkle of her eyes. "So lovely to see you again. You must have some of that orange cake. We just whipped it up yesterday with a little help from Junie. Delly, could you grab me another piece?"

Sure enough, there's fresh cake on the small coffee table that smells like citrus heaven as Delly starts carving slices.

Arlo grabs his plate like a hungry little ghoul and devours his piece before plugging in his headphones and watching one of his favorite animal YouTube channels on his tablet.

"It's a huge relief to have it back," I say, nodding at the boy. "He would've been so disappointed if it hadn't shown up. It's like the nicest thing we own."

No exaggeration.

I had to pull long hours flipping secondhand junk online just to scrape together enough for that Christmas present, an iPad with a durable case that can handle his abuse.

"Ah, I wish I had one of those. I could use it for the airport today." Evelyn's smile deepens. "He's a good boy. I'm sure there was someone watching over him and his little toys."

She sets a tall glass of orange juice in front of him.

He looks up, offering her a smile and a mumbled, "Thanks."

Better than nothing, I guess.

"Boys," Delly says fondly, glancing over at him and his tiny, puckered frown of concentration as a man on the screen lets a nasty-looking centipede crawl up his arm in some tropical environment. "I imagine he was a little nightmare this morning."

"Only a little." I laugh. "Honestly, I think he was sure I took it and misplaced it."

The cake is downright decadent—Juniper's expert baker touch for sure

—and I eat my slice in about three big bites despite my best intentions to seem ladylike.

"Patton was a Tasmanian devil as a child," Delly says, glancing at Evelyn with a conspiratorial smile. There's something so pleasant about them, two old friends. I can't wait to have her as Arlo's grandma, and maybe Evelyn as a great aunt of sorts. "Remember that time we visited you in Minnesota, Evie?"

"How could I forget?" Evelyn laughs cheerfully. "Right in the middle of summer, the sticky dog days. You were staying in one of the lakeside cabins."

I wonder if she means one of the cabins Higher Ends is looking at refurbishing. I lean forward, elbows on my knees, wondering if I'll learn anything useful from a business standpoint I can recommend to Patton and his brothers.

"He disappeared," Delly says. "We were beside ourselves. My husband and Evelyn's, they threw themselves in the water, swimming after him."

"Poor Archer wanted to go in, too," Evelyn reminds her. "But you told him to stay on the shore."

"He was too young and that lake was deep. I wouldn't dare risk another son. But between them, they got Patton out. His little lungs coughed up so much water." Delly's face looks white as she remembers it.

Evelyn nods glumly. "A tragic reminder of how fragile life can be."

I glance at Arlo, but he's oblivious to the scary story, chewing his lip as he remains glued to his animals.

My heart won't stop racing and I wasn't even there.

To me, my son doesn't seem so fragile, but that's because I've seen him jump down stairs and patched up countless scraped knees.

But really, he's small.