The Whispering Room

Nash said nothing as she turned and watched the clouds roll in from the gulf. The breeze picked up and the heady fragrance of her neighbor’s roses hung heavy on the steamy night air.

Evangeline couldn’t look at Nash, but she didn’t pull away when he slipped his arm around her shoulder.

Down the street, a car engine roared to life. It sounded like Nathan Mallet’s old Mustang, and in her mind’s eye, Evangeline saw Johnny wave as he gunned the motor and drove away.

J.D. whimpered in his sleep, as if he’d heard the sound, too. Evangeline lifted him to her chest and pressed her cheek to the top of his head.

“I’m here,” she whispered. “Mama’s here.”