Page 22 of Defenseless
“Did something happen?” Sabina finally forced the question from her lips. She didn’t want to ask. She wanted to sit on the swings and enjoy the fall sunshine and forget, if even for a few hours, why they were there in the first place.
Frustration and sadness flashed in Kara’s eyes before she gave a jerky nod. “I don’t know if it means anything, but someone was asking about me at a conference I was at last week. He wasn’t a participant.”
Kara was a physician who managed to stay hidden from their past by working for an international aid agency. She was out of the country more than nine months a year. Usually in places most people in the United States wouldn’t be able to locate on a map. On the rare occasions she was stateside, her employer often asked her to attend conferences on their behalf. Privately, Sabina thought Kara should decompress from her work when she was home, not work more. What she saw and did while out in the field was not for the faint of heart, and everyone needed time to heal.
“Did you get a picture of him?” Sabina asked.
Kara let go of her hand and dug into her purse. Pulling an image out, she handed it over. “I downloaded this from the conference website after the event. It’s not very good, but he was in the background of a couple of shots. I wrote the name of the conference on the back as I’m sure you’ll be able to find more. Or do more with what’s on the site.”
Sabina looked at the picture that Kara had enlarged to center on a man. The image was too grainy to make out details, but Sabina could see enough to get a general idea. Everything about him was nondescript, from his build to his hair color to his clothes.
“I’ll look into it,” Sabina said, slipping the picture into her own bag. She reached for her sister’s hand again and in sync, they started to swing.
After a long moment passed, Kara turned to her. “You’re different. Something is different this time.” Whether it was because they were sisters or twins, or perhaps it was only because of their shared experiences, they’d always been able to read each other’s moods.
Whether one wanted the other to or not.
Sabina shook her head. “It’s nothing.”
Kara smiled. “Now Iknowit’s something. We don’t get much time to talk, but I get the feeling this is something you need to talk about.”
It was. But Sabina wasn’t sure if she was ready. Chad, and his persistent campaign to get her to open up, had her wondering if the decisions she and Kara had made were the right ones. He and his family had folded her into their lives with no question, no judgment, and nothing but open arms. They weren’t the first people to offer that to her over the years. But they were the first people—especially Chad—that it bothered her that she couldn’t give that back to them. To him.
If Chad had continued keeping her at a distance, she wouldn’t be thinking the things she was thinking or questioning the things she was questioning. But he hadn’t. The sneaky bastard had shifted tactics and completely thrown her off-balance.
“Spill it,” Kara pressed. “There’s nothing out of bounds for us. You know that.”
She did know. But still, she hesitated. If she gave voice to her thoughts, she’d be questioning everything they’d done, every decision they’d made, for years.
“Sabina?” Kara pressed, shifting on her swing to get a better look at her sister.
Sabina looked up at the endless blue sky. A single puff of a cloud hovered in the distance, and two crows flew west. “Do you ever wonder if we made the right decision? If we’re still making the right choices?”
She couldn’t look at Kara as she voiced the question that she felt she had no right to ask. The plan had been Sabina’s, and Kara had gone along with it. It had been no small thing what they’d done, and to question it now had Sabina’s stomach churning and her palms sweating.
“What happened?” Kara asked gently.
Sabina shook her head, surprised to realize a single tear tracked down her cheek. Brushing it away, she took a deep breath and tried to center herself.
“And don’t even think of trying to brush over this by telling me to never mind and that you’re being silly,” Kara admonished. That drew a look from Sabina. Mostly because her sister had called it exactly right. “We made the decisions we did because that seemed like the best plan at the time. It set things in motion in a certain way, but that doesn’t mean we can’t question it,” Kara said.
“Do you think we made a mistake?” Sabina asked.
Kara shook her head. “At the time, no. We did what we felt we needed to. Has it been easy? No. Have we been hurt and hurt others? Yes. But we’re alive, and I’d argue that we’re leading good lives.”
Sabina felt the moment her sister caught the thread that had led to Sabina asking the question. “You want more, don’t you? Something has happened, and you’re not sure that our lives are enough anymore. Tell me about him.”
Sabina jerked her head around and stared at Kara. “Maybe it’s not a ‘him.’ Maybe I’m just tired of the secrets.”
Kara arched an eyebrow.
Sabina scowled. Then huffed. “Fine, there’s a him. But there’s more than ahim.It’s the whole freakin’ family. They’re warm and funny and welcoming and…”
“And it feels good to be around them. And then you remember how much you’re keeping from them. And you remember what happened the last time you got close to someone. And you want to pull away. Even though, in your heart, you don’t.”
Sabina studied her sister’s eyes, hating that she wore contacts. She hated that they hid her away and she hated what they stood for. “You sound like someone who might know a thing or two about what you’re talking about.”
Kara’s gaze drifted left then met hers again. “There was a man, a few years ago. We met while working in Haiti. He was…special. Different. Ifeltdifferent when I was with him. I wanted more. More of him and more of who I was when I was with him.”
