Oct. 7, 1998

The October wind chilled Laurie to the bone, as she scanned the perimeter of the graveyard. Although it was early in the morning, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of foreboding. Her eyes darted from one tree to the next, trained to spot his familiar outline and that eerie blank face, both of which were etched in her memory. Brown leaves rustled as they shed from the trees, but the coast was clear.

Laurie pulled her blue pea coat a little tighter and knelt before her daughter's grave. She placed a bouquet of lilies against the stone, as she read the epitaph for the thousandth time: Jamie Lillian Lloyd, Beloved Daughter, 1980-1995. A mixture of sadness and rage hit Laurie in the pit of her stomach. How dare he take her from me, she thought, as she cupped her hands over her face to catch her dewy tears.

She knelt, sobbing in memoriam for what seemed like eternity, until another sense overwhelmed her. Laurie lifted her flushed face from her hands and scanned the graveyard once more. She knew this sense all to well; the foreboding twinge was back. But as her gaze again darted from tree to tree, stone to stone, she failed to notice the looming shadow towering above her.

Laurie jumped at the realization of a hand on her shoulder and quickly turned around. Her twinge faded, though, when she saw who was standing before her.

"Dammit John! You scared me to death!" Laurie snapped at her son, her heart skipping a beat.

"Sorry mom, I didn't mean to scare you."

Laurie nodded and put a reassuring hand on the 17-year-old's shoulder.

"It's ok," she said. "But what are you doing here?"

"I was driving by on my way to school and saw you crying. Are you ok?" John asked. His face showed a true concern for his mother.

"Yes honey. I'm fine," she answered, wiping away some tears.

John didn't like being patronized.

"You're lying. It's about him isn't it?" he questioned.

"That's none of your concern", Laurie said, trying to shield Jamie's headstone from John's view.

"Dammit mom! I'm not a little kid anymore! I can handle the truth," John pleaded, becoming more impatient.

"I know you can, but it doesn't mean you should!" she yelled, her voice breaking.

"Believe me, if you knew the depths of what your uncle did…" at this Laurie dropped to her knees, clasping her right palm over her mouth, and sobbed once more.

Heartbroken, John embraced his mother, whose body convulsed with each mournful tear.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you," he said, as he lifted her chin with his hand so their eyes met.

Laurie's face was flushed red and wet. John had never seen his mother in this much pain before. He took her hand and they slowly stood together.

"C'mon, let's get out of here" he said as Laurie nodded.

She placed her head on her son's shoulder as they walked back to the Jeep, unawares of the onlooker hiding just beyond the trees.