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He sniffled as he snatched up the bouquet of flowers from the passenger's seat, then left the car. He had to do this, even though it was difficult. It was very long overdue, and for that, he felt extremely guilty.
Adam felt a lump in his throat but swallowed it down as he walked. The pleasant fragrance of the gorgeous white lilies he held tickled his nostrils. He began to blink more rapidly as he felt his eyes moistening.
The tall blond man felt his stomach clench as he stepped into the cemetery. And although it had been a good five years since he'd last been there, he remembered exactly where the plot was located. It was etched in his memory forever. In moments, he was there.
Adam stood silent and still in front of the grave, his gaze trained on the gray marble headstone. His hands shook a little as he read the inscription - Judy Anne Copeland, Beloved Daughter, Sister and Mother. 1951-1982.
He felt the burning hot tears slipping down his cheeks and felt like that eight-year-old boy again as he sank to his knees on the grave.
"Mom..." he said, barely managing the word in a whisper. "... I brought these for you." He neatly and so carefully placed the bouquet against the headstone. He bowed his head, his shoulder-length blond hair fanning his face like two wings.
"I'm sorry, Mom... I know it's been ages since I've visited. I know I should do so more often, but..." He reached out and touched the marble so gently and lovingly. "... I'm not going to make any excuses," Adam murmured. "It's so tough." He felt the tears trickling down his cheeks to his chin and sighed. God, he hated this. His mother had died so many years ago, but damn if he didn't need her more than ever. Ever since the visions had been growing more intense, and coming more frequently, he'd felt more vulnerable, like he had as a little boy.
Adam sat there and merely cried for awhile. He glanced up for a beat, noticing how deserted the cemetery truly was. Aside from himself, the only other living soul had been an old woman several plots away, probably visiting her deceased husband. She had left a few minutes earlier.
"I'm sorry, Mom," the blond man said, repeating himself from earlier in his graveside visit. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you." With that, he kissed the fingertips of his left hand and again softly touched the headstone. "I love you," he whispered.
He stood back up and slowly left the cemetery. As he walked back to the Lexus, he took some comfort in the fact that at least it seemed he would be having a relaxing, low-key day. Thank goodness no vision had struck him.
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"Very good, Amy! You did great work here."
The redhead smiled with pride as she thanked the owner of the newspaper for which she worked. It wasn't often that Mr. Vince McMahon actually stopped by, but it was a pleasant surprise that he seemed to favor her output. He was examining her photos from the rockslide. And, judging also by the expression on the man's face, he was quite impressed.
"You have some talent, young lady," McMahon told her. "Keep up the fantastic work."
"Thank you, Mr. McMahon," she replied. She was nearly flushed with her sense of accomplishment.
The older man nodded at her courteously and excused himself. He walked a small ways down the hall to Amy's supervisor's office, closing the door behind him, to the sound of it.
The redhead checked her watch, only then realizing that it was time to go home.
She started packing up her things, thoughts of Adam Copeland coming to her yet again. That had to be a record for the last hour alone as far as how many times he'd entered her mind went. And she still had yet to do her hard research. She'd planned to hit the library for an hour, since she knew it was open until seven that night.
"Goodnight, Miss Dumas."
She looked up abruptly, just in time to see Mr. McMahon on his way out. He offered her a smile.
"Goodnight, Mr. McMahon."
About five minutes later, she was all ready to leave herself when her boss stopped her.
"Amy... One minute, before you leave." Mark Calloway had stepped out of his office and was waving her over. He was quite a big man, actually near seven feet, and had long, dark auburn hair.
Wordlessly, she stepped toward him.
"Yes, Mark?"
"Well, I guess congratulations are in order," the man stated.
"Excuse me?"
"Mr. McMahon is giving you a raise," he elaborated, surprised the owner apparently hadn't told the woman himself. "He's very impressed with your work, and he just informed me that you will be getting one, effective immediately."
Amy's jaw dropped in surprise.
"Really?" she asked. The news seemed too good to be true!
"Really," Mark said with a smile. "Keep up the good work, lady... You have a good night as well."
"Thank you!" she said, shocked. "Goodnight!"
What an unbelievably pleasant surprise! Amy thought as she left the building. She could not get over it.
As she got into her Toyota, her mind shifted back to her other business. She was headed for the library.
Half an hour later, she was seated at a microfiche machine and sifting through some old newspapers. Before too long, she found the issue she'd been searching for.
Amy gasped in horror as she read the article. It was all about a little boy, eight years old, and his mother, who'd been brutally murdered by a boyfriend.
There was actually a picture of the boy... And, although she'd never seen a picture of him as a child, she
instantly recognized him as Adam Copeland.