Sins of the Mother Read Online Free Page B

but I’m here if your arms get tired . . . if you need me . . . for anything.”
    Her words, her expression, were so warm that Jasmine wanted to cry again. Why was it only tragedy that brought people together this way?
    With the lineup decided, they all turned toward the front doors. Jasmine could see the awaiting faces of the press, lingering on the steps in the sub-twenty-degree temperatures. No matter the cold, they were hungry, Jasmine knew, for the details of a missing-child story. This was always a heartbreaking event, one that made great news.
    How many times had she seen this scene play out on television? How many times had she cried with the parents as she sat in the haven of her home with Jacqueline tucked safely in bed? How many times had she thanked God that nothing like this would ever happen to them because they were under His grace and His mercy and His favor?
    “Wait a minute.” Reverend Bush stopped them right before they stepped through the precinct’s doors. “Where’s Mae Frances?”
    “No!”
    Hosea said, “Jasmine, we all need to stand together through this. We need one another.”
    “No!” she exclaimed again. “Aren’t you listening to me? Don’t you get it? This is all her fault!”
    “Jasmine?”
    Five pairs of eyes turned to face the voice. Mae Francesstood just feet away, her mink wrapped around her, her hands trembling. It was clear that she’d heard every word.
    “Jasmine, sweetheart.” Mae Frances took two steps and paused. “I love you.”
    As if her son was in danger, Jasmine clutched Zaya closer to her chest, and with eyes as cold as her words, she said, “Just so we’re clear—
you’re
the reason Jacquie’s gone . . . and I hate you.”
    Mae Frances shook her head from side to side. “Please, you can’t blame me for this. I love her, too. She’s my granddaughter.”
    “No, she’s not.” Her hate gave her courage to jump right into Mae Frances’s face. “You’re not related to us. You’re just an old woman we pitied.”
    “Jasmine!” Hosea grabbed her arm, but that didn’t stop her.
    “We should have left you alone, left you to rot in that old apartment by yourself. Left you”—Jasmine sobbed—“the way you left Jacquie.”
    “That’s enough,” Hosea said, jumping in front of Jasmine as if he could block her words with his body. “Jasmine, please.”
    “I don’t want her here,” she cried.
    “Okay,” Reverend Bush said. He gave a slight nod to Brother Hill, and without words, his friend gently placed his hand on the edge of Mae Frances’s elbow and, with little effort, led her back down the hall. Another nod, and Mrs. Whittingham followed Brother Hill and Mae Frances, leaving Reverend Bush alone with his son and daughter-in-law.

Six
    S IX CAMERAS . F ROM THE THREE major networks, and from NY1, MSNBC, and CNN. Then there were the print reporters, a few holding microphones in their gloved hands.
    There weren’t as many newspeople as she expected—surely, she and her husband, with his award-winning television show and his position at one of the premier churches, should have garnered more attention. But then, she remembered that Reverend Bush had pulled this conference together quickly. In a few hours, there would probably be dozens of cameramen anxiously waiting outside of their apartment building, wanting to help get out the news of Jacqueline’s disappearance.
    Jacqueline’s disappearance. Those two words made her shudder.
    Standing in between her husband and father-in-law, Jasmine listened as Hosea cleared his throat.
    “Thank you for coming today,” he said, his voice strong as he began. “We just wanted to talk about our daughter, Jacqueline Bush, who was at the new Harlem mall this morning.Jacquie disappeared around noon from in front of the Paws Pet Shop. She was wearing a pink velour suit . . .”
    Jasmine leaned closer to Hosea and whispered, “With matching ribbons in her hair.”
    Hosea repeated what Jasmine