Silent Run

shortly. “You made your choices, Sarah, and I had to live with them. Now it’s my turn. Right now I’d like to be alone with Caitlyn."
    Sarah hesitated and then leaned over and kissed her daughter on the forehead. She rose from the bed and walked out of the room. After what she’d put Jake through, she owed him this night -- but the rest would be a battle.

Chapter Twenty-Three

    Sarah paused in the doorway to the living room where Catherine and Teresa were eating pizza and catching up on their lives. As usual their conversation jumped back and forth between topics, Teresa eager to express each and every opinion in her head and Catherine trying to get a word in edgewise.
    Listening to them took Sarah back to the past, when they’d gathered on Catherine’s bed late at night and talked about what they were going to do when they grew up. Teresa had wanted to be an astronaut. Catherine had always wanted to be a painter. And when Sarah had seen her own future, she’d always pictured herself with a bunch of kids. The other girls had teased her about having no ambition, but creating a family had always been her dream. Neither Teresa nor Catherine had ever been part of a real family, at least not for any length of time. Teresa had been taken away from her single mother when she was two and didn’t remember anyone. Catherine had never told them when or why she’d been taken from her parents, but Sarah had always known that something bad had happened. There was a dark sadness to Catherine that she couldn’t quite hide, but she’d always refused to talk about her past.
    Since Sarah had spent most of her life hiding her own history, she could hardly quarrel with Catherine’s decision just to keep moving forward. Sometimes there was no point to looking back. Her big mistake had been to lie. She shouldn’t have tried to be someone else. She should have had more confidence in herself.
    â€œThere you are,” Teresa said, spotting her in the doorway. “Get in here, for God’s sake. Are you all right? What did the cops say?"
    Sarah moved into the room and sat down on the couch next to Catherine. “I have to go back in the morning to talk to some more people, but the bottom line is that I don’t think any of us are going to be charged in Victor’s death. The police seem to believe it was self-defense, and Rick has been talking about the other murders that Victor was involved in, so my fingers are crossed that it will be all right. I hope so, anyway. I certainly don’t want to see Jake arrested for murder when all he did was try to protect me, nor do I want to go to jail. But I would rather it be me than anyone else.” She paused. “How do you feel, Teresa?” She watched Teresa take the ice pack off her head with a grimace.
    â€œLike a big Russian guy knocked me out with the butt of his gun,” Teresa said dryly.
    Sarah smiled. Teresa was a tough-talking, no-nonsense brunette who made up for her lack of height with a generous amount of bravado. She’d missed talking to Teresa -- having her in her life. She should have left Chicago when Teresa wanted to go, but instead she’d chosen Victor -- another bad mistake. She’d certainly made a lot of them.
    â€œHow are you?” Teresa asked.
    â€œNot bad."
    â€œDid you make things right with Jake?"
    â€œI’m not sure I can."
    â€œBut you want to."
    â€œI really do.” She shook her head. “I don’t know that he can forgive me for what I did."
    â€œHe sure as hell should forgive you. You were running for your life."
    â€œWith his child under my arm. He doesn’t see it in quite the same light as me, and I can’t blame him. I did put Caitlyn in danger. I can’t deny that."
    â€œShe would have been in danger if you’d left her with Jake,” Teresa said firmly. “Victor is the one to blame, not you. You did what you had to do."
    â€œOkay, my turn,” Catherine interrupted. “I want to know why you never got in touch with me, Jessica. I looked for you in Chicago. I stayed there for two weeks, searching the streets, talking to your friends."
    â€œI sent you a note as soon as I could,” Sarah said, knowing that what she’d done wasn’t nearly enough. But at that point she truly had been running for her life.
    â€œA cryptic note that you could have been forced to write at gunpoint."
    â€œI was afraid to make