The Silent Sister(102)

“But if you’d had a good attorney, he—or she—could have defended you. They could have made the case it was an accident.” I couldn’t seem to let this go. I was suddenly so frustrated! I set Violet on the floor and stood up, pacing across the room. “Why didn’t you stay?” My voice cracked. “Everything would have been so much better! You might have had to do some time, but I could have visited you. I could have known you. Danny would never have gone off the rails the way he did when he was a teenager. Maybe he never even would have gone to Iraq.”

“Oh, Riley.” She bit her lip again. “Maybe that’s true,” she said, “but I was too scared to take the risk. Daddy saw a way out for me. I trusted him to know what was best. And it ultimately turned out well for me. Until now.”

“You mean until your daughter shows up and ruins everything.” I sounded young and stubborn, like one of the adolescent kids I worked with, but I couldn’t help myself.

“That’s not what I—”

“Do you regret it?” I stood in front of her. “Running away?”

She hesitated long enough to tell me she didn’t. “My life is far better than I deserve,” she said, “but there’s always been a huge hole in it. For you. For my family. I’m not just saying this because you’re here. I thought I was doing the best thing for you. Giving you two loving parents. I didn’t know Mom would die so young. I didn’t know Danny would enlist and get hurt and suffer so much. I thought leaving was the best thing for you. The publicity … all the talk … it was already taking a toll on Danny. I didn’t want it to take a toll on you, too.”

“And you wanted to be free.”

“Of course I wanted to be free!” she said, red splotches high on her cheekbones. “But not of you. Never of you. I love you.”

I shook my head. “You got your freedom, Lisa, but Danny and I got a life sentence, living in a house full of lies.”

She looked alarmed. “Call me Jade, Riley,” she said as though she hadn’t heard a word I’d said other than her name. “Please. You have to call me Jade.”

I felt scolded. She could tell me she loved me all she wanted, but her actions said otherwise. They always had. Suddenly, I knew I had to escape that tight little dressing room. It hurt too much to be there with her.

I pulled the door open and charged out of the room before she could say anything else. I ran across the dark, deserted club floor and pushed through the double doors onto the sidewalk, gulping in the thick summer air. I started running toward my car as if I were afraid she might come after me, my feet pounding the sidewalk.

I was breathless by the time I reached my car, and I leaned against the warm metal door for a moment, my gaze riveted on the dark sidewalk as I watched for her to follow me, but she didn’t.

Only then did I realize how much I wanted her to.





54.

Jade

She curled up in the chair in the corner of their hotel room while Celia paced the floor. Celia had held her when she got back to the hotel, letting her talk. Letting her cry. But now Celia was anxious to move on. She wanted to figure out their next step, while Jade’s mind was still in that dressing room with Riley. She’d fantasized that one day, far in the future, she’d be able to talk to her daughter. In her fantasy, there was tenderness. Forgiveness and understanding. That had been unrealistic of her. She’d hurt Riley, and Riley was the last person in the world she’d ever wanted to hurt.

“Well, the first thing we have to do,” Celia said, “is cancel that New Bern gig. We’ll get a lot of flak for it, but we can’t possibly—”

“No,” Jade said.

Celia stopped pacing, looking at her like she’d lost her mind. “What do you mean, no?”

“What’s the point, Celia? Danny hates me and he’s friends with the police. He knows our schedule. He knows where we’ll be. Even if we cancel the rest of the tour altogether, he knows how to find me now.” She scratched at a little stain on the arm of the chair. “It’s over for me.”

Celia sat down on the corner of the bed. “It’s not just you this is affecting,” she said. “It’s me, too. Shane and Travis. Not to mention our kids.”

She was right. Many years ago, Jade had spared herself and her family from a long-drawn-out trial and months—or years—of hurtful publicity, only to threaten her new family with something worse now. But you could only run so far from your mistakes.

“I know.” Her voice came out as a whisper. “I’m so sorry. I know this messes things up for Jasha Trace.”

“It kills Jasha Trace.”

She cringed. Celia had been full of sympathy and comfort for the last hour. Now she was angry and Jade didn’t blame her.

“I know it’s going to be terrible for Alex and Zoe.” Her voice broke on Zoe’s name, but she kept talking. “There’s just no way out.” How would she ever explain it to their children? Would she be imprisoned in Virginia, thousands of miles from them? Her hand shook as she wiped tears from her eyes, and although she kept her own gaze on the arm of the chair, she felt Celia staring at her.

“There’s got to be a way around this,” Celia said.

“She’s so hurt that I left her,” Jade said. Those final moments with Riley were still on her mind. I felt so left out, Riley had said. She’d broken Jade’s heart with those words. “She doesn’t understand why I didn’t stay so I could be involved in her life.”