“I don’t know.”
“Maybe we can start over.”
“I don’t know,” Star repeated.
“Don’t shut me out. I’ve punished myself for so long. You’ve punished yourself. Think it over. Don’t say no.”
Star bit her lip then flipped her hair off her shoulder. “Pebble said maybe I need to tell you how I’m feeling.”
“Pebble?”
“This therapist I’m seeing.” She gave a little smile and rolled her eyes. “I know. What a stupid name. But she’s okay. She’s got me thinking about a lot of stuff. She’s actually kind of cool. She helped me to stop the cutting. I’m sorry I said I hated you that day. I didn’t mean it. I was really mad at you for telling my parents. Even though I understand why you did. It got me into therapy. But when I heard you were moving... I don’t know. It felt like you were mad at us. At my parents and me. They don’t—we don’t hate you.” She exhaled a big breath.
“I know, sweetie. My leaving has nothing to do with you or your parents.”
“It’s like you came back into our lives—my life—after being gone for so long, and now you’re taking off.”
“It’s something I need to do for myself. To heal. I love you and still want you in my life. Really.”
Star gave a little tilt of her head. Gazing off into the distance, she looked unsure. They watched two geese flapping their wings and honking noisily. But then a crow flew nearby, cawing. A moment later, there were two then three, and soon a murder of crows appeared like in the movie The Birds, descending upon the maple tree off to the left of their chairs. Their large black bodies filled the tree, all of them cawing frantically.
“What the...?” Jesse said as she sat up tall.
They were flapping, fluttering, and swooping. Their chatter made a terrible, loud racket. Jesse hadn’t seen so many crows all together since Sophie used to observe and feed them. But the birds seemed different. Jesse imagined they were angry with her.
“What’s going on?” Star said.
Saint Anthony stood up and barked at the tree. Then one crow with an iridescent purple patch on its head swooped down close to them. They both ducked and shouted, “Hey!” The bird had something shiny in its mouth. As the bird swooped, it dropped the glinting, shimmering object into the white cement birdbath close to the water’s edge. Then it flew off high into the sky before returning to the maple tree with the other crows. Jesse and Star ran to the birdbath. Star reached in and picked up the object—a small, rectangular piece of metal. She turned it over in her hand.
“A locket.” She rubbed dirt off the silver and read an inscription that was engraved on it in fancy script: “With eternal love.”
“What? No.” Jesse grabbed it out of Star’s hand. “My locket!” Stunned, she looked back toward the maple tree, at the crows.
“Really? It’s yours?”
“Yes. It’s mine.”
“Where’d they get it?”
“I kind of lost it.”
“You think the crows left that especially for you? The way they left Sophie all those things?”
“Yes.” Jesse had saved Sophie’s plastic container with the compartments. The one that held all the small gifts the crows had left her. Her most cherished things in the world. Jesse loved them, too, but mostly how the crows befriended her daughter. She had thought about using some of the objects in new artwork. “I recognized that crow. She had an unusual shiny purple spot on its head.” Sheryl Crow.
“I saw that, too,” Star said.
“I had tossed my locket into the creek months ago. I was angry and upset. Trying to get rid of the past. My mistakes. My grief. But then I was sorry I’d done it. Sophie used to love this locket. She’d play with it while it was around my neck, sliding it back and forth on its chain. I can’t believe they returned it to me.” She looked at it in her hand then pressed the tiny clasp at the top of it. The locket opened. The two photos were still inside. The serious photo of Sophie taken on the Cape and the one of Jesse and Cooper, smiling with their arms around each other. Both were a little wrinkled and damp but still recognizable. Jesse shook her head in disbelief. She drew her finger over the engraved letters then held the locket to her chest.
“It’s amazing,” Star said. “It’s like they were watching out for you.”
“Or someone was.”
Jesse stood at the creek’s edge, gazing at the water, still stunned at the gift bestowed upon her. She kept looking back up to the tree full of crows. Their chattering and cawing had quieted down to a dull rumble.
Jesse turned the locket over in her hand a few times. Somehow, when the crows left their gifts for Sophie, it seemed right. She’d gained their trust. She couldn’t believe the crazy occurrence now and that she was able to share it with Star. Then a single crow shouted from the tree caw, caw, caw, over and over as if coaxing her on.
Jesse held the locket out toward Star. “I want you to have this.”
“What? No. It’s yours. It’s special.”
“It is special, but I really want you to have it. The crows could have left it for me any time, but they didn’t. They waited until you were here with me. I was meant to get it back, but you’re meant to have it now. It’s from me to you. It’s from Sophie to you. You have to accept it. With eternal love.” Forever, right.
“But you missed it. You said you were sorry you threw it away.”
“I was. But now it’s important to me that you have it. Please take it. I really want you to have it.”
Star took the locket out of Jesse’s hand and opened it. She looked at the photos then clicked it shut, touching the inscription. “Really?”
Jesse nodded.
Then, one by one, the crows left the tree, flying up and away until just one lone crow remained, its large eyes watching them from a low branch. Jesse and Star stood together, looking out at the sky long after the crows had flown off. The one remaining crow opened its beak and let out a loud, sharp caw, caw, then it swooped down and out. They watched until it was gone. Jesse put her arm around Star’s waist and tugged her in closer. Star leaned her head against Jesse’s shoulder and put her arm around Jesse’s waist. No one would have guessed that only moments ago, the backyard was a complete frenzy of noise as the tree exploded with big, loud, chattering crows. If she hadn’t known any better, Jesse would have said it was a sign.
Dear Reader,
We hope you enjoyed Sophie Last Seen, by Marlene Adelstein. Please consider leaving a review on your favorite book site.
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Acknowledgements
My deepest thanks and appreciation goes to Rachel Gallagher, a comrade in the writer’s life whose enduring support and razor-sharp comments on many drafts of this book were invaluable, and to my priceless writers’ group: Pat Anderson, Barbara Bash, and Susan Krawitz, who were always there for me whether I was writing or not. They patiently read more drafts than I care to remember and gave fabulous notes plus gentle coaxing and prodding. Not to mention that they also plied me each month with writerly nourishment—both edible and intellectual.
The following people read the book at different stages and provided me with sensitive, insightful critiques: Cheri Magid, Hadley Rierson, Carol Drechsler, Nancy Green Madia, Roz Weisberg, Shira Levin, Alison and Mike Gaylin, Carol McKelvey, Alice Peck, and Nancy Star. Benee Knauer’s editorial notes were so helpful. Gratitude goes to Angela Rinaldi for her enduring support and keen notes. Thanks to Peter Golden for his ongoing interest and good advice. And for his years of heartfelt encouragement, thanks to Tom Mark. Java and Honey, my two devoted chocolate labs, were both inspiration for Saint Anthony and invaluable companions through thick and thin.
Special thanks to Yaddo, The Vermont Studio Center, The MacNamara Foundation—thank you, Maureen Barrett—where portions of this book were written during amazing, productive residencies.
&nbs
p; A huge thank you to Lynn McNamee at Red Adept Publishing for taking on Sophie Last Seen; Jessica Anderegg and Stefanie Spangler Buswell, my editors at RAP, for their incisive, thorough notes that helped make this a better book; Erica Lucke Dean, for her mentorship; and the whole cheering section of Adept authors.
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Did you love Sophie Last Seen? Then you should read Who She Is by Diane Byington!
In the fall of 1967, Faye Smith's family moves to Florida to work in the orange groves, and she has to start a new school… again. She tries out for the track team, knowing her mother would never approve because of Faye's epilepsy.
When Faye discovers she has a talent for distance running, she and her friend Francie decide to enter the Boston Marathon, even though women aren't allowed to compete. Desperate to climb out of the rut of poverty, Faye is determined to take part and win a college scholarship.
After the school bully tries to run her down with his car, a strange memory surfaces—a scene Faye doesn't recognize. Her parents insist that it's a symptom of her epilepsy, but Faye thinks they might be lying, especially when it keeps happening. To get her life on the right path, she'll need to figure out what her parents are hiding and never lose sight of the finish line.
About the Author
After 23 years in New York City, working as a film development executive for top Hollywood producers, Marlene Adelstein began earning her living as a freelance editor working on novels and memoirs.
When she’s not reading other people’s manuscripts or writing her own, Marlene can be found walking local trails with her dog. She is partial to chocolate labs and in particular hers, a good-natured girl named Honey, who is never more than a few feet behind her. Comfortable and energized in a big city but preferring to make her home in a small town filled with other writers and artists, Marlene lives in the beautiful Hudson Valley where she loves to listen to the noise of the birds.
Read more at Marlene Adelstein’s site.
About the Publisher
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