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I rub my hands against my shorts as if that’s all it will take to make this situation go away. For the nightmare to end. “I know where Violet and Sophie are, but I need a disguise for them to help them escape Maple Ridge and Violet’s abusive husband. That’s where the wig comes in.”
Shock widens Simone’s and Zara’s eyes, rendering the two women apparently speechless.
“You do realize her husband and the Maple Ridge Police Department are looking for them?” Avery’s voice cracks in a whisper.
“And Noah too. But I can’t let them find her. Violet’s life depends on it. Hers and Sophie’s lives depend on it.” My tone pleads for them to keep my secret.
“So those diapers I saw you with two weeks ago…?” Simone’s eyes widen, and she relaxes back on the dining room chair as if the answer is suddenly clear to her.
“I was buying them for Sophie. And I’ve had to buy her more since then. I’d get them online, but my neighbors might get suspicious if the delivery person leaves the boxes on my stoop and it’s obvious what’s in them. I’ve been lucky so far when I’ve bought them in the store—other than when you saw me that day.”
“I’m sure we can figure something out to help with the diaper situation,” Simone says.
“Thank you. That would really help.” Her words knock off a small amount of the heavy load on my shoulders. It won’t be fully gone until I get Violet and Sophie far from Oregon.
“So what does Savannah Townsend have to do with Violet’s and Sophie’s disappearance?” Zara’s brow furrows. “I mean, other than the obvious—Violet’s and Savannah’s husbands are cops. Well, was in Savannah’s case.”
I locate on my phone the photo of Amelia that was taken when she was twenty months old. I caress her sweet face and hand the phone to Zara. “I’m Savannah Townsend.” The name tastes foreign on my tongue. I haven’t felt like Savannah in a long time.
I don’t think I’ve seen Zara more surprised than in this moment. Her mouth is a perfect O of pinkish-brown lipstick. The expression is mirrored on Simone’s face. Avery just seems…sad.
I point at the photo in Zara’s hand. “Her name is Amelia.” I choke on the ache in my heart from saying her name out loud. “She’s my daughter. Or she was until I gave away my rights to her and let my brother-in-law and his wife adopt her. I’d been sentenced to twenty-five years in prison and had given up hope of anyone realizing I was innocent. I didn’t want her to grow up thinking her mother was nothing more than a murderer. I didn’t want her to grow up ashamed of me or scared I would try to see her once I was finally released.” Except the latter is exactly what I’m hoping to do if Grace and Craig let me.
The pain on Simone’s face causes me to hiccup back a building sob. “She doesn’t know you’re her mother, does she?”
I shake my head, the never-ending grief crushing me. “Her adoptive parents felt it would be better if she didn’t know about me, and I agreed with them. When I was still married to my husband, she was the only thing that kept me going. The only thing that kept me from giving up on life. I was attacked while in prison and nearly died because the one thing worth living for was no longer mine. I’d given up on life.”
Tears break through the dam at the memory of that day. Of watching the blood—my blood—spill across the gray concrete, of welcoming my death. I hadn’t realized at the time I would soon be a free woman.
“But I guess God had other plans for me,” I tell them. I don’t believe in God, but that was the one time I let myself believe that something bigger than all of us does exist.
I wipe my slick cheeks with the back of my hand. For all the good that does.
“I had a daughter once.” Simone’s voice is so low at first I’m not sure I heard her correctly. She clears her throat, her attention on her plate. “I was twenty-two and pregnant with Lucas’s baby. But he didn’t know it at the time. When I was five months pregnant, I was involved in a multi-car pileup because of a drunk driver. I lost my baby, and I lost my uterus due to an emergency hysterectomy to save my life.”
Her pained eyes meet mine. They hold so much grief and understanding, my tears start up again.
“Her name was Lily.” Simone’s gaze flicks briefly to the vase of lilies on the table. “I know what it’s like to lose a child and feel like you’ve lost everything. I’m sorry you had to give up your daughter because of the actions of someone else. That’s why you’re so determined to save Violet and Sophie, isn’t it? You don’t want Violet to lose her daughter too?”
I nod. “Maybe she’d have a better chance of keeping Sophie if her husband wasn’t the chief of police. But he knows how to play the system to his advantage. Like my husband did. That makes it even harder to escape.”
“Does Troy know about your daughter?” Simone picks up her samosa but doesn’t seem to be any more interested in eating it than I am in eating mine.
I swirl mine in the chutney but don’t make a move to put it in my mouth. It’s to give my hands something to do. “No. And Kellan doesn’t either. Only Violet knows.” And Robyn. “I failed Amelia in so many ways. But at least because she’s a minor, the media has left her alone.” Thank God there are no threats online targeting her—that I’m aware of. “I’m trying to get to see her again…even if it’s just as a friend of the family. But so far, her adoptive parents have been against the idea because…because I spent five years in a maximum-security prison. It changed me.
“That’s why I don’t want anyone else to know that I’m…was Savannah Townsend.” I abandon my samosa on my plate. “If anyone finds out…finds out I didn’t leave my husband…that I failed my daughter…” Shame flares and consumes me like it does on a daily basis. “If anyone finds out I spent five years in maximum security, in a system that changes you…and not necessarily for the better.” The shakiness in my hand worsens, knowing everyone could so easily turn their back on me.
“You have nothing to be ashamed of, Jess,” Simone says. “And you didn’t fail your daughter. Just the opposite. What you did took tremendous courage. What you’re doing for Violet and Sophie takes tremendous courage.”
I draw in a long breath, filling my lungs with what can only be hope. “Thank you. The prison didn’t release to the media or anyone else news that I was attacked while I was there. The media didn’t have a recent photo of me after my release, and they didn’t know I’d dyed my hair or about the scars on my face. Between those things and keeping a low profile, I’ve kept people from recognizing me.”
“Troy knows all of this?” Zara asks, her shock at my news no less than it was at the beginning of the conversation. Other emotions also color her tone. Sorrow? Regret? Grief? Anger on my behalf? The one emotion void in her tone is pity. And for that, I’m grateful.
“He knows most of it…other than the part about my daughter and that I’m hiding Violet and Sophie.” I explain to them my reasons for keeping him in the dark. “He might know about Amelia, but if he does, he hasn’t mentioned it. He told me he wouldn’t google my name. He knew I wanted to keep all of that in the past. The media hasn’t mentioned my daughter since shortly after my husband’s murder.”
Zara’s gaze flicks to Simone for a brief moment and back to me. “Are you sure you don’t want to tell Troy what’s going on?”
“Positive. It’s better that way for all concerned.”
