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Zoe shook her head. "That can't be true."
"It's true," Janice whispered. "Your mother only stayed away because it was no longer safe for her there. She knew you were safe. That was the deal—she'd never turn him in so long as you girls were safe."
"And he kept his promise until the day she died," Quinn said, "and not a moment after."
Zoe's head swam. "Why… why would you never tell me?"
"I think we can both agree you worry about me enough to begin with," Quinn said. "I knew how you felt about Mom. I didn't want you to think of Dad… Well, you needed a rock. I always had you to depend on."
Tears swam in her eyes, and briefly, she wondered if Ian knew. If this was just another thing he'd kept from her for Quinn's sake.
"Have you talked about it with anybody else?" Zoe asked.
Quinn shook her head. "Only Janice. When he first hit me, I wondered… I called her to see what she knew."
Janice took Quinn's hand in hers. "I tried to get custody of you girls for years, but no lawyer would take me on while your father was still alive. You were already in your teens by then. Besides, seeing me…" She gave Zoe an understanding smile. "I know it's hard to look at me and not see her."
It was true. Whenever Janice spoke, it felt like her mother had risen from the dead and was sitting at the table beside them. They just looked so much alike, sounded so much alike. Except, of course, that Janice looked rigid and serious where Dawn's face had always been smooth and worry-free. Just like Quinn’s.
"What can you tell me about her?" Zoe asked. Janice offered her another smile before pulling out a stack of old albums.
For the next few hours, they poured over old pictures as Janice told them about her upbringing and what Dawn—their mother, she corrected—had been like as a child and a teen. By all accounts, she was Quinn in just about every way.
When she walked, she practically glided, and every person she met was an opportunity to make a new friend or learn a new fact or skill. Dawn saw the beauty in everything, and as Janice flipped through the pictures, Zoe felt her own heart lifting slightly, like an imaginary weight she hadn't been aware of was sliding off.
Their mother had been fun. And she had loved them. And part of that was with her now. Someone was there watching over her.
Janice flipped another page, and Dawn was there wearing a salmon-colored cocktail dress and flowers in her hair. Beside her stood a gawky boy at least two heads taller than her. She beamed up at him with so much affection she looked like her heart might burst right there on the spot.
"Who's that?" Zoe asked, pointing at the boy.
"Red Springfield. Your mother was so in love with him."
Quinn nodded.
"And what happened? Did he dump her?" Zoe asked.
"Worse." Janice shook her head. "He died. Terrible car accident. They were bound to get married—you never saw two people more in love. But then…" Janice shrugged. "Your mother mourned and went off to college and met a guy with a good job and a steady lifestyle. He was different than Red in a lot of ways, but I think that's why she married him. Didn't remind her so much."
"So she was hiding," Zoe said, and she stared down at the woman in the picture, seeing a resemblance of herself for the very first time behind Dawn's hazel eyes.
"People do terrible things when they're upset," Janice said, with another knowing look. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to hit the hay." She stretched and then made off for the long hall at the end of the living room.
Zoe stared after her, waiting until her bedroom door had clicked shut before turning to face Quinn again. "I can see why you like her," Zoe confessed.
Quinn nodded. "Look…" She cleared her throat. "I'm sorry for not telling you about everything. And for messing up the wedding. And for leaving you in the lurch like that. And—"
"It's fine." Zoe held up her hand. "Water under the bridge."
Quinn rested her head on Zoe's shoulder, and silently, Zoe stroked her sister's hair.
"I like your necklace," Quinn murmured and Zoe reached up to find that the necklace Ian had bought her was still circling her throat.
"Thanks." Heat rose to her cheeks, but she pressed on. Right now was about Quinn, not about Ian.
Even if it did feel like the whole world was about Ian, anymore.
"Look, I know it must have been hard for you to leave Paul. I want to have the kind of relationship where you can tell me what's going on with you and how you really feel. I think the fact that you felt like you had to hide from me… well, maybe it's a family trait." She stroked Quinn's hair again. "But I love you, and you can never disappoint me."
