Silent Run

when all he really wanted to do was find Caitlyn.
    â€œThanks,” she said simply. “It’s nice to know something about myself."
    He shrugged. “Whatever it takes."
    The muscles in his face tightened, as if he regretted the small confidence they’d shared. She doubted she would get anything more personal out of him. But she didn’t want their conversation to end. She felt as if every word he spoke was lightening up the darkness in her head. “This is helping,” she said.
    â€œWhy? Are you starting to remember?"
    â€œThe memories feel closer."
    â€œWhat does that mean?"
    â€œI don’t know, Jake. Just keep talking. Tell me about your mother."
    â€œI don’t talk about her."
    â€œBut why did she leave you behind? Don’t mothers usually get custody?"
    â€œShe obviously didn’t want custody,” he replied. “I think she was so beaten down by my father over the years that she just couldn’t keep fighting. She used to drink, take sleeping pills. I’m sure she was trying to escape from my father."
    â€œDid he abuse her?"
    â€œI never saw him physically hurt her. I even remember some good times. But one day they were just gone. And then so was she. She wrote us a long letter and that was that. Over the years she did sign her name to a few birthday cards or Christmas presents, but that was basically all the contact we had with her."
    â€œIt seems strange that she would just leave you like that."
    â€œReally? It seems stranger to me that you would think it was strange,” he said pointedly, his gaze burning into hers. “Obviously you had no problem walking away without a word."
    Sarah felt the sting of his accusation. She didn’t like how closely his mother’s story seemed to parallel her own. Frowning, she asked, “Did I know this before about your mother?"
    â€œOh, yeah, you knew. It apparently didn’t matter to you. Or maybe you realized that leaving me without a word was the perfect way to kill me without actually taking out a gun. I didn’t think you had it in you to be so cruel."
    His tone was vicious, but there was as much pain as anger in his words. Her eyes began to water, and she felt as if she were on the verge of crying again, but she couldn’t cry, because Jake would think she was pretending, trying to get his sympathy, when in fact she felt like crying because of what she’d done to him.
    He was right. It was unbelievably cruel to replay his mother’s departure. She had hurt him so badly, this man she had supposedly loved enough to live with and have a child with. How could she have done such a thing? She didn’t feel inside like the tough, cold bitch he described. Yet how could she deny the facts?
    â€œI think I hate myself as much as you hate me,” she murmured.
    â€œThat’s impossible.” Jake’s face was grim, his mouth taut, the pulse in his neck beating hard and fast. He jumped to his feet so fast the chair toppled over backward. “We’re done with this conversation. Whatever we had is gone. I want it to stay that way."
    It was his last, belated statement that made her realize how conflicted he was about her. She was almost afraid to ask, but somehow the words came out. “Do you mean it’s not completely gone?"
    â€œWell, it is for you, isn’t it?” he countered.
    â€œMaybe it’s not. Maybe when I remember who I am, I’ll remember that I’m still in love with you."
    He stared at her for a long moment. “I did love you, Sarah,” he said, his voice husky with emotion. “I thought you were the perfect woman, only you turned out to be a figment of my imagination."
    â€œWhat we had together was real,” she argued.
    â€œNo, it wasn’t. Everything you said was a lie."
    â€œNot everything. I’m a real person, even if my name keeps changing. What I like to eat is the same."
    â€œSo Sarah Tucker and Samantha Blake and God knows who else like Mongolian beef and chicken fried rice. Who cares?” he snapped.
    â€œI do, because maybe who I am down deep is the same, too.” She paused, searching for the right words. “I feel a lot softer than the person you describe. I feel as if I’ve been hurt, too, like the pain is really big, and if I let it out, it will be too much."
    â€œDo you want me to feel sorry for you?"
    â€œNo, I want you to understand."
    â€œUnderstand what? At the