Page 20 of In Her Wake
Her mother’s hand shot across the table, gripping Jenna’s wrist with surprising strength.“That’s not what I asked you, Jenna Marie.You’re holding something back.I’ve felt it for so many years now.”Her voice dropped.“Ever since Piper disappeared, you’ve been...different.Changed.”
The words struck Jenna like physical blows.She’d always assumed her secret was well-hidden, that her carefully constructed normalcy was convincing.
“Different how?”she asked, trying to keep her tone light.
“You know things.”Margaret’s eyes never left Jenna’s face.“Things you shouldn’t know.I’ve watched you solve cases that seemed impossible.I’ve heard the whispers around town.”
“Mom—”
“People talk, Jenna.This is Trentville.They say you have some kind of second sight.That you know things about the dead that no one could possibly know.”Her mother’s grip tightened.“And I’ve wondered, all these years—is that why you’re so certain Piper is still alive?Because you would know if she weren’t?”
The question struck at the heart of everything—the reason Jenna had never stopped searching, the knowledge she carried that her twin sister had to be alive somewhere.
“You shouldn’t believe everything you hear,” Jenna said, gently extracting her wrist from her mother’s grasp.“People in small towns love their stories.”
“Don’t do that.”Margaret’s voice hardened.“Don’t dismiss me like I’m just some gossip at the church potluck.I’m your mother.I know when you’re hiding something.”
Jenna felt trapped.How could she explain without sounding insane?My dead father visits me in my dreams.I speak with murder victims who tell me things only they could know.But I’ve never seen Piper, which means she must still be alive.
“Mom, I’m a trained investigator,” Jenna said, falling back on the explanation she’d given countless times.“I notice things, connect patterns.”
“That’s not all, and we both know it.”Margaret’s voice remained steady, but her hands twisted nervously around each other.
“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Jenna finally managed.
“The truth,” her mother said simply.“After all these years of lies and half-truths and things we don’t talk about—just the truth.I’m stronger than you think, Jenna.I always have been.”
Jenna looked at her mother—really looked at her.The woman who had crawled out of the dark pit of alcoholism and grief.Who had rebuilt her life piece by piece.Who was sitting here now, clear-eyed and resolute.Maybe she was stronger than Jenna had given her credit for.
But before Jenna could decide how much to reveal, Margaret sighed deeply, her shoulders slumping slightly.“I’m sorry.It’s been a long day.I’m probably talking nonsense.”
The words didn’t match the certainty in her eyes, but Jenna seized the opening anyway.“It’s getting late,” she agreed, rising from her chair.“And I should get going.”
Margaret stood as well, “Of course.Duty calls.”
Jenna moved around the table and embraced her mother.“I’ll come by again soon,” she promised, pressing a kiss to Margaret’s cheek.
“I’ll be here,” her mother replied.
As Jenna walked to her car, she felt oddly unsteady.Her mother’s questions had disturbed something deep within her—not just the secret of her abilities, but the certainty she’d maintained about Piper for twenty years.
Jenna slid behind the wheel of her cruiser but didn’t start the engine immediately.Instead, she sat in the gathering darkness, trying to process what had just happened.Her mother knew—or at least suspected—far more than Jenna had realized.And that changed everything.The careful compartmentalization of her life suddenly seemed impossible to maintain.
She needed to talk to someone who understood.Someone who wouldn’t think she was crazy.
Without conscious decision, Jenna found herself driving toward Frank Doyle’s house on the outskirts of town.Frank had been sheriff before her, had trained her, had become a father figure after her own father’s death five years ago.And Frank was one of only two people who knew about her abilities—her lucid dreaming, her conversations with the dead.
His modest brick ranch house appeared ahead, warm light spilling from the windows.As always, when she arrived unannounced, Frank seemed to be expecting her.The front door opened before she'd even cut the engine, his tall figure silhouetted in the doorway.
“Evening, Sheriff,” he called as she approached.“Thought I might be seeing you tonight.”
Jenna smiled despite herself.“Your second sight acting up again, Frank?”
“Just good intuition,” he replied, holding the door wider.“And the knowledge that strange cases always bring you to my doorstep.”
She followed him into the house, the familiar scent of pipe tobacco and old books wrapping around her.Frank’s home was a reflection of the man himself—unpretentious, comfortable, filled with mementos of a life well-lived.
“Tea?”he asked, already moving toward the kitchen.
