Page 70 of In Her Wake
Jenna nodded, then reached into her pocket and pulled out the photograph once more.“I’m looking for this person,” she said, handing it to Eliot.“Her name is Piper Graves.She was a teenager in this photo, but she’d be in her mid-thirties now.”
Eliot took the photograph and studied it.His gaze flickered between the image and Jenna’s face, recognition dawning in his expression.
“I know this face,” he said slowly.“Though I didn’t know her as Piper Graves.”
“You—you recognize her?”
“I do,” Eliot confirmed, still looking between Jenna and the photo.“And I see her resemblance to you.The eyes especially—same shape, same intensity.”He handed the photograph back to Jenna.“She called herself Emma Kirby when she came here.It was about ten years ago.”
“Emma Kirby,” Jenna repeated, trying the name on her tongue.It felt foreign, wrong—a name that belonged to a stranger, not to the twin she’d shared a childhood with.
“Yes,” Eliot continued.“She arrived here looking for a place to stay.Most young people who come here are running from something or searching for something—sometimes both.Emma...she was definitely running.Wouldn’t tell anyone anything about herself, kept to herself mostly.”
“How long did she stay?”Jenna asked.
“She only stayed about a week.Then one morning, she was just...gone.No goodbyes, no note.Her few belongings vanished with her.”
“Just a week?”Jenna echoed.
“Yes.Most young people stay a year or two, find their footing, then move on to whatever’s next.Some stay longer, a handful have been here five years or more.But I’ve rarely had someone leave so abruptly.”
“Did she say anything about where she might go next?Any names, places?”
Eliot thought for a moment, his weathered face creasing with the effort.“No, nothing specific.She kept to herself, as I said.Worked hard in the fields during the day, stayed in her room most evenings.The few times she joined the communal dinners, she barely spoke.”
“Did she seem...afraid?”Jenna pressed.“Like she might be hiding from someone?”
“Not exactly afraid.More...vigilant.She always positioned herself with her back to a wall, always seemed to be watching the entrances and exits.It was subtle, but I noticed.In my younger days, I worked as a counselor with at-risk youth—you develop an eye for that kind of behavior.”
Jenna nodded, recognizing the description of someone who felt hunted.“Is there anyone else here who might remember her?Anyone from ten years ago still around?”
Eliot shook his head regretfully.“I’m afraid not.I’m the only constant here.”
“Did she leave anything behind?A note, a drawing, anything at all?”
“Nothing that I recall,” Eliot replied.“She traveled light—just a backpack.Took everything with her when she left.”
Jenna sat back.After twenty years of searching, she’d learned that Piper had been alive just ten years ago.But now the trail had gone cold again.
“Sheriff,” Eliot said gently.“This person is a relative?Someone who means a great deal to you?”
“My twin sister,” she admitted.“She disappeared twenty years ago, when we were sixteen.I’ve been looking for her ever since.”
Understanding dawned in Eliot’s eyes.“I’m sorry I can’t tell you more,” he said.“If it helps at all, she seemed...troubled, but not unwell.Wherever she went after here, I believe she had a plan.”
It was small comfort, but Jenna appreciated the attempt.“Thank you for your time, Mr.Lansing.”
He walked her to the door, his gait stiff but dignified.On the porch, he paused, looking out over the fields where his young charges continued their work.“If I may ask, Sheriff—how did you find us?How did you know to look here for your sister?”
“Let’s just say I followed a very strong hunch.”
Eliot only nodded.“Well, if you ever need a place to rest, to think, our door is always open.”
“Thank you,” Jenna said, truly meaning it.
As she walked back to her car, Jenna felt the familiar frustration.Twenty years of searching, and all she had was a false name and the knowledge that Piper had spent one week at this farm a decade ago before vanishing again.
Emma Kirby.Why had Piper felt the need to use an alias?.What else had she changed about herself these last twenty years?And where had she gone after leaving the farm?Most importantly, what—orwho—had she been running from?
