Prologue
The night the blue lights came, I was asleep in the back seat.
I must’ve dozed off to the sound of their voices. Mama sang along to Reba and Linda Davis, “Does He Love You,”, while Dad tapped the wheel to the rhythm of the music.
I don’t remember the car stopping. I don’t remember the doors opening.
But I remember waking up crying and alone.
I remember the windows being fogged over, the air thick and still.
And then the lights came, clawing through the trees, painting everything in flashes of blue and red.
I remember voices too, but only like echoes underwater. A man yelling.
The radio spitting static.
And the sound of boots squelching in the mud.
Then, one of the men came to the car, opened the door, and unbuckled me. I didn’t know it then, but the man who pulled me out was Sheriff Landry. He didn’t say a word; just picked me up and held me like I might shatter.
And then there was Granny.
She was already there. Waiting just outside the reach of the lights, with her arms open.
He didn’t ask.
She didn’t flinch.
He just handed me over like it was the only thing left to do.
But what stayed with me the most was the sound of my sobs as I clutched onto Granny’s worn denim jacket.
She rocked me slowly, her voice low and even as she whispered,
“Hush now, darling… The bayou just took what it had to. But you? I won’t let it.”
