Page 41 of Running to You

“Where have you been?” And then, seeing her face, her eyes widened. “What happened to you?”

Eliza didn’t know how to answer that.

Sam cleared his throat. “Can we go somewhere private, please?”

Jeanette turned to him. “Sam.” No friendliness in her voice. “Are you responsible for that?”

“Of course not,” Eliza said. “Why would you even…?”

“An office?” He ignored Jeanette’s question. “Broom closet?”

“Sure. Right.” She wiped her eyes and took Eliza’s hand as if she might disappear, pulling her down a hall past doors that were closed on the bottom, open on top. Inside, children played and bounced and laughed and cried.

Jeanette led them around a corner and down another long hall, this one dark and deserted, leaving the kids’ classrooms behind. She unlocked a door and pushed it open, then turned on the light.

Eliza stepped into an office. Utilitarian desk. Shelves overflowing with brightly colored books, tubs of crayons, paints, and craft supplies.

Jeanette looked the same. Blond curly hair trying its best to escape a ponytail. Scant makeup. Bright blue eyes that missed nothing. Jeans and a sweater and leather boots with a short, stacked heel. Maybe she had a few more wrinkles than Eliza remembered, but they didn’t detract from her looks. She’d always been naturally beautiful.

She sat in one of the guest chairs, pulling Eliza down into the other. “Where have you been?”

“It’s a very long story. Are you really a pastor? How did that happen?”

“Also a very long story. After you left—”

“We know you’re busy.” Sam gave Jeanette an apologetic look as he closed the door and leaned against it. “Maybe you two should catch up another time. Sorry to interrupt you at work.”

She barely spared him a glance, aiming her words at Eliza. “What’s going on?”

“When was the last time we saw each other?”

Those blue eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“My memory’s a little…” She was groping for a way to explain, but Sam didn’t have any trouble.

“She has amnesia.” When Jeanette looked up at him, he added, “She’s lost about five years. Anything you can fill in would be really helpful.”

Jeanette blinked. “Five years?”

“Crazy, huh?” Eliza tried to sound flippant. “But I figured, if anybody knew where I’d been—”

“I know nothing. You just… You took off. Said you were taking a job with some clients and moving.”

“What clients?” Sam asked. “What were their names?”

She glared at him. “I don’t know. Somebody she was working with.”

Seemed Jeanette was holding a grudge. Eliza was about to try to diffuse her friend, but Sam beat her to it.

“I love your protectiveness.” His tone was calm, measured. “I’m sure I deserve your wrath. It would really help Eliza if you’d try to remember.”

Jeanette turned away from him almost dismissively. “You worked with them for a while. Do you remember any of your clients?”

“A few, yeah.”

“It was a married couple. You told me they were starting some kind of a home for young women—a drug rehab or something?”

It sounded right. Felt right. She closed her eyes, tried to probe that memory. Pushed through the throbbing in her head. Pressed her hands to her temples. She had to remember. She had to.