Page 57 of His to Burn

Be stronger than I was.

-Edmund Sinclair Hanlon, III

Tears pricked my eyes,but I forced them back.

I took a deep breath, and when I was sure I wouldn’t succumb to tears, I spoke, my gaze lasered on Jack.

“Can we leave him there? Make sure nothing gets in? There are coyotes sometimes, and I would hate…”

I trailed off, feeling like a fucking idiot for the millionth time today.

“It’s stupid, but, I just…”

Words failed me again, and I had the sense to keep my mouth shut this time and wait for Jack.

Part of me wished he would yell at me, or at least be annoyed. That would give me something—anything—else to focus on, but he didn’t do any of that.

He didn’t even speak.

Instead, he used those same commanding strides to walk back to the greenhouse. I remembered when he had it installed. It was impossibly fancy, and came with shades to protect the orchids from the often blistering Georgia sun.

Jack disappeared from sight as the blinds lowered.

When he reappeared, he closed the door behind him and twisted the knob off the frame.

After his wife died, Judge Hanlon told me the greenhouse was his favorite place, the one where he felt closest to her.

I was glad Jack had fulfilled his final request.

“Thank you,” I said when Jack joined me again.

He nodded but then refocused. “Now the house. Can you get into the garage?”

I nodded and then walked toward it, stopping in front and staring at the keypad.

The wrong number would send the alarm blaring and police rushing in.

Or it would have before.

Now, the alarm would still probably go off, but I was sure no police would come.

I didn’t even want to consider what would.

I told Jack I knew the code, but that wasn’t entirely true. I had known the codethen, and relied on the fact that Judge Hanlon wasn’t the most tech-savvy person in the world, so he probably didn’t change it.

My fingers trembled as I lifted my hand and moved it slowly toward the keypad.

I got closer, my doubt rising with each heartbeat, reaching a crescendo when I pushed the first number into the pad.

I entered the five that followed quickly and then tensed, waiting for the shrill sound, followed by running—to God only knew where to escape God only knew what.

But instead, all I heard was a quiet beep, and then the keypad flashed green.

Jack caught my eye, nodded, and then opened the door adjacent to the garage doors.

We went inside, and Jack focused on the black sports car and SUV parked neatly.

“Someone else live here?” he asked quietly, studying the garage.