Free Shadow of Doubt by Norah McClintock

had been eight years old the last time she had seen her father. According to her driver’s license, she was currently twenty-four.
    Ms. Denholm was as still as a mannequin. As her eyes searched Ted, his hand went self-consciously to his head. Except for a thick fringe that ran behind his head from ear to ear, Ted’s hair was sparse, but I guessed it hadn’t been that way the last time Ms. Denholm had seen him.
    â€œYou’re Ted Gold,” she said in a quiet voice. “You’re my father.”
    Ted stood rigid on the stage.
    â€œMom died last year,” Ms. Denholm said.
    â€œI know.” My father must have told him. “I’m sorry.”
    â€œWhen I moved here six months ago,” Ms. Denholm said, “I knew you lived here. I Googled you. I found out where you work.”
    â€œYou did?” Ted said. He sounded like someone who had just been handed a ticking, gift-wrapped box and was trying to decide what was inside—a brand new clock or a bomb.
    â€œI was trying to work up the nerve to call. I even picked up the phone a couple of times,” Ms. Denholm said. “But after what I said to you the last time we spoke—”
    â€œThat was a long time ago,” Ted said. “You were a child.”
    Ms. Denholm looked him over. It was impossible to tell what she was thinking. Then she held up her right hand. Ted stared at it.
    â€œThat ring was in my grandmother’s family for generations,” he said. “Her great-great-grandfather gave it to his only child. Since then it’s been passed to the eldest child. I gave it to your mother for you when you were born.”
    â€œI found it in one of her drawers when I was thirteen,” she said. “I used to babysit for the man who owned the jewelry store in the town where we lived. Just before I left for college he resized it for me. I’ve worn it ever since.” She smiled nervously at Ted. “I’m glad you’re here.”
    I gestured to Billy to get off the stage so that Ted and Ms. Denholm could be alone. It took a few moments before he finally got the picture. He gathered his things and jumped down. Ms. Denholm and Ted didn’t notice. They were staring at each other, both wide-eyed and dazed. I grabbed Billy by the arm and pulled him up the aisle. He kept glancing back over his shoulder.
    â€œWhat was that all about?” he said as I pushed open the auditorium doors.
    â€œMs. Denholm and Ted haven’t seen each other in a long time,” I said.
    â€œOh.” He still looked puzzled. For a moment I thought he was going to ask me all about it. But all he said was, “Well, she looked happy to see him. That’s good. She seems sad, you know, Robyn?”
    â€œWell, someone
did
trash her car.”
    â€œI mean besides that. You heard what she said. Her mom died last year. Maybe it’ll make her feel better having Ted around.”
    I peeked back in through the window in the auditorium door. Ted and Ms. Denholm were still on the stage. They were still talking.
    â€œI hope so,” I said. I knew Ted was hoping the same thing.
    Billy handed me his backpack while he put on his jacket and dug his phone out of a pocket. He made a quick call. When he finished, he said, “Morgan wants me to meet her at the paint store. Wanna come?”
    I shook my head. Morgan and Billy were my oldest and best friends, but since they’d become romantically involved they were sometimes hard to be around. I still found it strange to see Morgan, who used to tease Billy for being such a good-guy geek, turn to mush every time he beamed at her. And it was weird to see Billy, who until recently had had more respect for wildlife than he did for people, smiling at Morgan, who thought animals were fine so long as they were on plates or on leashes.
    â€œI’m going home,” I said. “I’ve got a pile of homework to do.”
    Billy veered off toward the school