Chapter 42

The figure standing in the doorway took a small step forward, then stopped, just as frozen as Jesse seemed to be. She was tall and slim, dark hair swept up off her heart-shaped face and tucked beneath a colorful kerchief. Lines were starting to crease the corners of her brown eyes and her generous mouth, but there was a sense of timeless elegance about the woman that made Dominique wish she was wearing something nicer than her jeans.

“Jesse? I thought…” Her gaze flickered around the church, landing for a moment on Dominique before returning to Jess. She didn’t look at his face, though. She was too busy inspecting the scars that mottled his torso. Several seconds passed before she slowly exhaled and lifted her chin. “You’re not my son.” 11