High school graduation. First job. First heartbreak. Wedding day. Emily covered her mouth. “No.” Hammer nodded. “He wrote letters.” Noah’s eyes filled immediately. “For me?” Hammer looked at him. “All of them.” Emily reached toward the box, then stopped. “Why do you have these?” Hammer’s face tightened. “Because he asked me to keep them.” “I’m his wife.” “I know.” “You should have given these to me.”
“I almost did.” “Almost?” “He gave me instructions.” Emily stared. “What instructions?” Hammer took a folded paper from the box. He did not open it. “He said Noah wasn’t ready for the letters until he finished the ride.” Emily looked at the motorcycle. “What does ‘finish the ride’ mean?” Hammer glanced toward Noah. “That’s what we’re here to find out.” He lifted a second envelope. On the front, Daniel had written: FOR HAMMER — WHEN NOAH DRAWS THE TWO OF US. Hammer went pale. Emily noticed. “You didn’t know?” “No.”
“You never opened it?” “He said I’d know when.” Hammer stared through the open garage toward the marked tank. “Apparently this is when.” His fingers shook slightly as he broke the seal. Inside was one page. Hammer read silently. His face changed. “What?” Emily asked. Hammer looked at Noah. Then at her. “No.” “What does it say?” Hammer folded the letter. “We’re done.” Emily stared. “What?” “We’re done.” Hammer put the paper into his pocket and moved toward the door
Emily grabbed his arm. “You don’t get to do that.” Hammer stopped. “Do what?” “Drag us here, tell me my dead husband lived a secret life, show my son letters from his father, then suddenly decide we’re finished.” Hammer’s eyes hardened. “You need to take Noah home.” “Why?” “Because Daniel was wrong.” “About what?” Hammer looked toward the Harley. “About me.” Emily’s grip loosened. Noah stepped forward. “What did Dad say?” Hammer looked at the boy. His expression cracked. “He said I was supposed to take you somewhere.”
“Where?” Hammer shook his head. “No.” Noah’s face fell. “But Dad said—” “I said no.” The force in Hammer’s voice made Noah flinch. Hammer immediately regretted it. He turned away. Emily stepped between them. “Read the letter.” Hammer said nothing. “Read it.” “No.” “Then give it to me.” “It wasn’t written to you.” “My husband wrote it.” “To me.” Emily’s eyes burned.
“And now he is gone, and my son is standing here asking why his father left him instructions that you refuse to follow.” Hammer stared at her. Then he pulled the paper from his pocket. He opened it. His voice was rough. “Ray. If you’re reading this, my boy remembered more than Emily or I realized.” Hammer stopped. Emily’s heart pounded. “Keep going.” Hammer swallowed. “He probably drew me on the bike. Maybe he drew himself too.” Noah stared at his picture outside. Hammer continued. “If he did, then the ride is still inside him.” Hammer’s voice weakened. “Take him to Mile Marker Forty-Seven.” Hammer stopped again. Emily frowned.
“Where is that?” Hammer did not answer. “What is Mile Marker Forty-Seven?” Hammer slowly lowered the letter. “It’s where the accident happened.” Emily felt the room tilt. “No.” Hammer nodded. Daniel’s letter trembled in his hand. “He wants Noah taken to the place where his worst mistake began.” “That makes no sense.” Hammer stared at the remaining lines. “There’s more.” “Read it.” Hammer’s eyes moved across the page. Then his face drained of color. Emily stepped closer. “What?” Hammer looked at Noah.
Chapter 8
“What does it say?” she demanded. Hammer whispered, “He wants me to tell Noah who was driving the car.” Emily froze. The silence became enormous. “Who?” Hammer looked at her. “I don’t know.” “You were there.” “I saw the car afterward. I never met the driver.” “Then why are you acting like this?” Hammer read the final sentence. His lips parted. He stared at Emily. “What?” Hammer did not move. “Tell me.” Slowly, he handed her the letter. Emily took it. The final paragraph contained only three lines