Page 63 of Faron (The Golden Team #8)

Faron

I couldn’t wait any longer.

Blue offered to come. Tag joked about backup. But this… this was mine to face.

I waited outside her precinct until her shift ended. Every second felt like a countdown to impact.

At exactly six, she walked out—boots steady, eyes sharp. Unshakable. Unchanged.

“Aponi,” I called.

She froze.

Her hand went to her sidearm as she turned.

Our eyes met.

And her world shattered.

“No,” she breathed, stepping back. “No. That’s not—you’re not…”

“It’s me.”

Tears blurred my vision.

“You’re dead,” she whispered. “My mother said—you and Dad were dead.”

I stepped closer. “I was never dead. I’ve been looking for you for years.”

She shook her head like it might erase me. “She changed my name. Took me away. I remembered you, Faron. I remembered everything. I changed my name back, three years ago.”

“I never stopped looking,” I said. “But it was like you disappeared.”

She looked wrecked. “She made me light candles for you. Every birthday. I thought you were buried in the desert somewhere.”

“I wasn’t,” I said. “You were with me every day. Even when I didn’t know where you were.”

Her chin trembled. “She years ago. Cancer. Wouldn’t tell me anything. Just silence.”

I reached out, slow, and placed a hand on her shoulder. “You don’t need her answers anymore.”

Her eyes filled. “You’re really here.”

“I’m really here.”

She stepped forward and hugged me like the years hadn’t passed.

“I missed you,” she choked out. “Every damn day.”

“I missed you, too, Aponi.”

She pulled back, wiped her face, and grinned through tears. “Let’s go get a beer.”

“I could use one.”

We started walking.

“You sure have grown,” she said. “Is my dad…?”

“He passed a couple years ago.”

Her smile faltered. “I wish I had known him. I wish…

He prayed for you every day.”

“I grew up in Idaho. Homeschooled. Barely saw anyone. She changed everything—first and last names. But when she died… I found the name Aponi Lightfoot in her drawer. I remembered it. So I started using it again. All my friends call me Aponi.”

“Did she ever mention me?” I asked quietly.

“She always said how much she missed you. I thought it was grief. Now I wonder…”

“She might’ve missed me. But she took you both away.”

“Yeah.” She exhaled slowly. “But I’m finding my way back now.”