Page 78 of Running to You

“Nicole lived in the dorm.”

The men’s conversation stopped, but Eliza didn’t open her eyes as she related what she remembered. “She was a resident, but also the house manager. She’d been there a long time—one of the longest residents. We were…” Her eyes opened, and she found Grant and Sam watching her.

Jon was jotting notes.

“We were friends. Are friends. She was on my side.”

Jon looked up “Of what? What sides?”

“I don’t…I don’t know.”

“No problem,” Jon said. “I didn’t look into her because I figured she was a girlfriend or something. But now that I know you’re connected to her, I’ll do a deep dive. See what I can learn. Tell me about this place, this…dorm, did you say?”

“Yeah. I think it’s a home for women, like a rehab center. But…I don’t think it’s for addicts. Or only for addicts. It was more like a place where troubled young women could come, learn to live on their own. Mature a little, I think. They lived in dorms.” As she spoke, the pale sketch in her mind filled in with dark lines and colors. “There was only one dorm at first, big enough for just a handful of women. But they expanded that building, then added another. Another structure held the kitchen, dining room, rec room, and nursery. It’s a farm. I remember horses, chickens, goats. The girls worked the land and learned how to take care of themselves and the children.”

Nobody said anything, but Eliza knew they were itching to question her.

“Some of the women had children. Others were pregnant when they got there. There was a medical facility—a doctor on staff, I think. So nobody ever got to leave.”

Beside her, Sam’s eager expression darkened.

What had she said?

She closed her eyes, replayed it. “Not got to leave. Had to leave, maybe. But…”

That didn’t feel true. Had Nicole been trapped? A prisoner?

Had Eliza?

The answer was right there, but she couldn’t…

Her head throbbed, a wave of pain that had her stomach roiling. She heard a groan—her own, but she couldn’t stop it.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Sam scooted closer, rubbed her neck. “Just let it go. Take a breath and let it go.”

She did, releasing her grip on the memory that had been so close she could taste its bitterness. Her headache receded, and she opened her eyes and looked at Sam.

He dropped his hand. “Better.”

“It’s so frustrating.”

Across from her, Jon tapped his pen on his notepad. “That was great information. That’s really going to help us track these people down.”

“Okay, good. But, didn’t you look me up? I lived there too. Not in the dorms, but somewhere on the property. I’d think my address would show exactly where it is.”

“Unfortunately,” Jon said, “there’s no record of you in Utah or anywhere else for the last five years.”

“What? That can’t be right.”

“The only driver’s license I found for you was issued in Maine. It looks like you renewed it—probably by mail.”

“I don’t understand. Didn’t I have a job? A lease or something?”

“It’s unusual,” Jon said. “But the pieces are coming together. With the name you gave me, and now that I know what I’m looking for, I’ll be able to figure out where you’ve been and who you’ve been with.” He leaned toward her. His smile turned him from fierce warrior to friend. “This is good news. We’re closing in on it.”

They were. The answers were coming.

Hope crept in around the ragged edges of her memory.