Silent Run

rise in Denver. They’d both been flight attendants on layover in Dallas. Only those games hadn’t lasted long, just a day or two. She’d never anticipated when she’d met Victor and his Harvard friends that they would still be seeing each other a few weeks later.
    Now it was too late to change her story. A wave of fear rushed through her. She told herself it would be all right. Victor didn’t have to know the truth. She could be whoever he wanted her to be. She’d spent her life learning how to fit in. Fake it until you make it, Teresa always said.
    The party scene faded in front of her eyes, replaced with the shadows of the back room, the clatter of the heavy ornate frames being opened, the sound of soft yet harsh whispers in the night, the late-night calls, the hours alone waiting, wondering, and then she saw the faces of the men who’d tracked her down, who’d blackmailed her, who’d forced her to see what was really happening, who’d taken her fairy-tale life and turned it into a never-ending nightmare from which she couldn’t escape.
    â€œSarah."
    The sound of Jake’s voice warmed her heart. She loved Jake. He was the real prince, but she couldn’t tell him her dark secrets. She couldn’t bring him into the madness of her life. Victor would kill anyone who tried to protect her or to help her. He’d already done it several times -- the guards in the safe house, Andy -- even Mrs. Murphy had almost lost her life because of Sarah.
    â€œSarah, come back to me. We need to find Caitlyn. I can’t do it without you."
    Jake’s pleading, desperate words warred with her desire to remain in a safe, quiet place, to just let the worst happen, because she was so tired. But her daughter needed her. Jake needed her. She’d put them in danger, and she had to get them out. She had to fight. She couldn’t quit now.
    Slowly she opened her eyes, blinking at the sight of Jake’s anxious expression. His face was white, and the worry lines across his forehead and around his mouth were deep and tight.
    â€œThank God,” he breathed. His hand stroked her cheek. “Are you all right?"
    Her brain felt thick and slow. It had been empty for so long. Now it was crowded with memories from her childhood, from Victor, from Jake -- so many conflicting thoughts hit her, she didn’t know what to say, what to do. She glanced around the room, trying to focus on the present, on simple facts. They were in a motel room in Santa Monica. They were on the run. They were looking for Caitlyn.
    Suddenly everything clicked into place.
    â€œJake,” she whispered, his name rocketing through her body in a series of sharp, tingling sparks of memory. It was all coming back. Finally.
    She closed her eyes again, feeling a deep sense of relief that she had to savor -- if only for a moment. She knew who she was. Her past was in line with her present. Her head and her heart had made the last connection.
    â€œSarah, I know you’ve remembered something. Can you talk to me now? I don’t want to rush you, but we don’t have a lot of time."
    She opened her eyes and looked at him, really looked at him, noting all the wonderful details of his face, his beautiful green eyes, his strong jaw, his passionate mouth. There had been a time in her life when she’d thought she would never see him again. The memories flooded back through her head like images from a video collage: the first meeting at the café, their first kiss in the moonlight under the Golden Gate Bridge, the first time they’d made love in his apartment, the day Caitlyn had been born, Jake cutting the umbilical cord, laying their baby across her breast, the nights the three of them had spent in bed together like a real family.
    Her heart broke at what they’d had, what they’d lost. Just because she remembered what had happened didn’t mean she could change it. She’d made mistakes, decisions that she couldn’t take back, and now she would have to explain them. Some of them were indefensible.
    A tear dripped down her cheek. Jake wiped it away. “Not now, Sarah,” he said, his voice husky and raw.
    He was right. It was time to face the music. It was time to talk to Jake with total and complete knowledge of who she was to him, and who she’d been to other people in her life.
    â€œI remember everything,” she said slowly. “Every last detail of my life,