The Breakaway (27 page)

“You must be Naomi’s parents,” she said with a gentle smile and nod to the officer.

Jason nodded as she finished shaking his hand and moved on to Karen’s. Her grip was firm but gentle as she continued.

“I’m Amy Williams—a volunteer counselor from the Denver Center for Crime Victims. I’ve been helping your daughter this morning.”

She nodded for them to keep walking, and they all continued down the hall. Karen felt like she was about to split in two with impatience. She wanted to see Naomi. She was somewhere in this building, and the mere thought of her alone in some cold room made Karen have to catch her breath. She had never felt so much trepidation in her life, not even before a trial. She had to fight to keep her tears back. She thought about the dozens of parents she had met with in the past few months after starting the foundation. So many of them had no hope left, and here she was with her hope completely restored. Her daughter was safe. Alive. But so many things could still be wrong. She had been gone for so long, and there was so much to fix beyond what had happened to her in the past year.

“Is she alright?” she finally asked Amy, who walked briskly by her side. “Is she ... mentally stable, I mean? I’ve read about what can happen in—”

Amy smiled. “She’s surprisingly well, actually, for what she has been through.”

“I want to see her right away.”

“You will, you will,” Amy said with a wave of her hand. “However, it would be best if you know a few things first.”

A voice sounded behind them. “Excuse me. Are you Naomi’s parents?”

Stopping, they all turned to see a dark-haired physician rushing down the hallway. He introduced himself as Dr. Reed as he shook both their hands. “Please, keep walking.”

“You’ve been taking care of Naomi?” Jason asked as he took Karen’s hand and squeezed. They weren’t walking slowly, but Karen wished she could break into a jog. Jason must have sensed her impatience, and gave her a look that reminded her to stay calm. She wasn’t alone.

“Naomi’s doing fine,” Dr. Reed explained. “She’s been through a lot since the police brought her over here.”

“I heard she was found outside your police department.” Jason said. “Somebody dropped her off?” His hand tensed. Karen noticed for the first time that day that he hadn’t shaved.

“Yes,” Dr. Reed answered, slowing his pace. “You haven’t been told much, have you?”

Jason shook his head. “Nobody’s explained much of anything.”

Amy cleared her throat and glanced nervously at Dr. Reed. “You’re aware four people kept her captive, right? They must have told you—”

“Yes, yes, we know that much. The FBI took them into custody.”

“Yes,” Amy answered. “Except for one.” She looked behind her shoulder as they turned a corner. “Agent Huang should be on his way back with some others working on the case. They were hoping to be here before you arrived. They’ll be able to answer most of your questions, but you should probably know—”

“I’ve examined your daughter,” Dr. Reed interrupted. “It’s standard procedure. She’s in excellent health, very surprising. No drugs or signs of physical neglect or abuse except for a few bruises on her face and a sprained ankle that’s healing. She says both are from her attempt to escape earlier last week, but she’s admitted to having a relationship with one of her captors.”

Karen stopped and everyone turned to look at her. “What do you mean by relationship?”

Dr. Reed cleared his throat. “Sexual, but she’s adamant that any intercourse between her and this man was consensual.”

Karen withered inside. “She’s not pregnant, is she?” The thought made her sick. She looked at Jason to see if he felt the same way, but he looked calm. His hands weren’t trembling like hers. He was handling things better than her, at least. Why did she have to be so weak? She had done so many things in her life, but this one thing made her feel like a brittle shell.

“No, no, she’s not pregnant,” Dr. Reed said.

She let out a heavy breath, but her strength was still withering at the thought of seeing Naomi again. “Thank God.”

“The other kidnappers have identified him as Jesse, uh—”

“Sullivan,” Amy finished for him. “He has a criminal record from a few years back. Minor offences, but still on the records.”

Jason squeezed Karen’s hand even tighter. She inched closer to him. “Criminal record for what?”

“Theft, I think. Jewelry theft?” She scrunched her nose and glanced at Dr. Reed, who shrugged.

“I’m not sure.”

“That sounds likely,” Karen said. “That was a possible theory at first.” That was when they reached Naomi’s room. The door was cracked open, and when Karen caught sight of her daughter on the bed, she yanked Jason with her into the room.

Nothing could have prepared her for what she saw.

Naomi was asleep. Morning sunlight fell in amber stripes across her body. She was entirely different from what Karen had molded inside her head during the past year. She expected to see the same girl she had grown used to looking at in photos. This girl was completely different—almost a stranger.

“Her hair’s short,” she whispered. “Why is her hair short? Jason, she looks so different. Her face, she’s ....”

She was aged. Worn. Karen wasn’t prepared for that at all. She though Naomi might be different, but not like this.

Jason shifted his feet. “Honey, you knew it would be like this. We haven’t seen her for a year. We don’t even know what she’s been through.” He took a deep, shaky breath. “I can’t imagine what she’s been through.”

Naomi stirred and Karen’s heart jumped. “Naomi?”

Her eyes opened and she looked up. In a way, she looked empty, and it tore at Karen’s heart. Was it emptiness or something else? What needed to be fixed? She would do anything to help her, to ease her pain. It was an odd feeling, something completely new.

“Mom?”

Naomi struggled to sit up as Karen leaned forward to help her. Dr. Reed had said she was in excellent health, but she felt fragile, like a bird, as they embraced each other out of what felt like obligation. She had no words to say. What could she say? She hadn’t said anything when her mother passed away, and it was the same now. There was too much pain. Instead, she pushed her fingers into the small of Naomi’s back. She was afraid that if she squeezed too hard something might break. Perhaps something already had.

XXX

3 Months Later-May

NAOMI LISTENED TO THE SEAGULLS OUTSIDE. She remembered the first few months with her kidnappers and how she had ached to hear seagulls again. Now they were annoying.

She covered her ears and buried her face in her pillow. It smelled different from Evelyn’s laundry soap. Not as sweet. She cried as thoughts of Evelyn consumed her. No more yoga. No more cooking in the kitchen. No soft voice and fingers through her hair. No more Jesse.

He was who she thought about the most for the past three months. He had left her shivering in front of the police station. He had left her there with nothing more than his words echoing in her head, just as they were now.

Get out of the car, Naomi.

Her bedroom seemed to close in on her. This wasn’t what she had missed while she was held captive. She didn’t know what she had missed, but it wasn’t her room or this house or the ocean. Since she got home, it seemed the only thing she had done was sit downstairs with counselors who tried to tell her how to think and feel. When she wasn’t being hounded by them, she retreated to her room to sleep. She didn’t want to talk to anybody, especially her parents. So far they were staying out of her way. It felt good to have them away from her. It felt normal—how things had always been.

Sitting up, she slammed a fist against the wall beside her bed. She wanted to make a dent. She remembered how it had felt when she tried to hit Eric and he had stopped her. Now there was nobody to stop her. They were arrested. Gone. She hit the wall again and again until she couldn’t feel her fist. Then she sank back to her bed and buried her face in the pillow.

How could Jesse have just left her like that? Every part of her wanted to scream at him, but maybe that’s what he wanted so she wouldn’t pine away in misery. Didn’t he miss her at all? She was hoping for a secret phone call, a letter,
something.
It was her birthday today. She was nineteen. Something special should happen, but she knew it would end up just like every other day—completely dull and wasted. Her parents might give her something, but it wouldn’t matter. It wouldn’t really be special.

She sat up and snatched her phone from the nightstand. No calls. Who would call her since she hadn’t given the number out to anyone? It wasn’t the same number as her old phone from before she was kidnapped, but at her request the service provider had managed to restore her old messages and reroute them to her new number. There was one in particular that she had saved in the archives. Her mother’s voice. Her weeping at the end. She had it memorized by now.

Naomi ... I miss you. I don’t know where you are. I don’t know anything right now, but for the first time in my life, I miss you and I’m sorry.

Dialing her voicemail, Naomi listened to the message again. It was strange, because for three months she had listened to it, but still couldn’t emotionally connect it to her mother. She had thought something miraculous would occur between them when she returned home, but so far nothing had happened. It was like she was dead inside and outside. A shell surrounding nothing.

She stared at the phone in her hand, wishing she knew how to reach Jesse so she could talk to him about how she felt. He was the only one who could understand. Then she remembered that she had left her journal in his car. He must have read it by now—all those passages rambling on and on about how much she loved him. Maybe it had scared him off. Maybe he never wanted to talk to her again.

THAT NIGHT her parents celebrated her birthday with a cake and presents. They were trying so hard to be a normal family. She blew out the candles and smiled, but after a few minutes she leaned back in her chair and put one of the gifts in her lap. She could tell her mother had wrapped it. The corners were bunched and the ribbon wasn’t tight. She wondered if her mother had ever wrapped a present before in her life.

“Thank you for all of this,” she said with a hollow sound in her throat. “It means a lot.” She looked up at them. Her mother was dressed in a white blouse with pearl buttons. Her hair was down, and she wore little shell earrings that glinted in the dining room lights.

“We just want you to know we love you,” her father said. He was in a T-shirt and jeans, something Naomi had rarely seen him wear. His jaw was scratchy from two days’ growth. That was also something she had rarely seen.

She glanced at the gift in her lap and tried to keep her tears from breaking free. Her parents didn’t need to see her like this, a complete wreck. She had grown up independent, and it was impossible now to pretend that she needed them in the way they seemed to want her to need them.

Her father’s last words hung in the air. Did he want her to say she loved both of them back? She did. She was a fool to ignore how grateful she was to be with them again, but at the same time she was like the candles on her cake—white smoke still streaming from the charred wicks. She was blown out. Finished. Spent. She had nothing left.

With tears in her eyes, she looked up at them and forced a smile. Everything felt so awkward. She wondered if it would ever change.

“Can I go back to my room?” she asked softly.

Her mother’s face scrunched into a worried expression. “You don’t have to ask permission, remember? Your counselors talked to you about—”

“I know.” She stood and gently placed the gift on the table. She couldn’t open it.

BRAD CAME to see her two weeks later. He was waiting on the deck with his back to her when she stepped through the doors.

She studied him before he turned around. His hair was longer, more messy than she remembered, but still as blond beneath the gray sunshine. The day was overcast and cool. She rubbed her arms and cleared her throat.

“Naomi!” He rushed to her, but she didn’t open her arms. He hugged her anyway, his strength the same as she remembered—tight and restricting. He pulled away and gave her a bright smile. “Your mom called me. She said you were finally ready to see me, so I got in my car and drove all the way here. I’m at Berkeley now.”

“I know. You’re studying medicine.” She turned away and sat in one of the chairs facing the ocean.

“Yeah, I am.”

Smile fading, he took a deep breath and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I couldn’t wait to see you. I called as soon as you were back, but your parents told me you weren’t ready to talk to anybody. I think I understand why. I mean, with everything you’ve been through.” He stepped forward. “Aren’t you a little bit happy to see me?”

She kept her eyes on the ocean and folded her arms. It was cold today. Brad stepped closer, waiting for an answer. She tore her attention from the horizon to look at him. Was she happy to see him? She had no clue.

“I don’t know how to feel about anything these days,” she finally answered and looked back to the horizon, a curved line only slightly darker than the gray sky.

She was being terribly rude, but a part of her didn’t care. He had long since left her heart. Nothing but a shadow. She hardly thought about him anymore. Even now, with him standing right in front her, she was hollow and wilted.