“Frank Peterson was the most honest man I’ve ever known. He taught us not just history, but integrity. He gave his life for the truth, for his daughter. And we are all guilty of failing him. Forgive us, Frank.”
Many in the crowd cried, remembering how the old teacher had gone door to door, begging for support, only to be dismissed as a crazy old man. Walter, the groundskeeper, placed a well-worn copy of *To Kill a Mockingbird* on the grave.
“Thank you, Mr. Peterson, for teaching us how to live with a clear conscience. I’m sorry we couldn’t protect you.”
Detective Cole stood off to the side, smoking a cigarette in silence. The notary, Simon, stood with a comforting arm around a weeping Susan. Slowly, the crowd dispersed, leaving Kate alone at the fresh mound of earth. She took out her father’s last letter and read the familiar lines through her tears.
“Kate, I know you’re innocent. I proved it, but I couldn’t hold on long enough to see you again. Forgive me for that. Live in our home, be happy. And always know that I never stopped believing in you. Your Dad.”
Kate knelt and pressed the letter to the cool earth.
“I’m free, Dad. They answered for everything—for your death, for the stolen money, for my five years. But the cost was so high. Forgive me for not being able to protect you.”
A breeze rustled her hair as a flock of geese flew south overhead. Down in the valley, a thin stream of smoke rose from the chimney of her father’s house. Kate had returned home and lit the furnace, ready to start a new life. Justice had prevailed, but it had been bought with the life of the only person who had ever believed in her, without question and without end.
As for Tamara, she would live out the rest of her days in prison. A place where people who prey on the old and the helpless are shown a special kind of attention.
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