“What?”
“How long have they been … married?”
“Not quite two years.”
I stood up and paced around.
“Explain the car, Cecilia? How did she get here? Why did she have new, unworn clothes and cash? Nothing else? Explain that to me,” I demanded.
“I don’t know, Joshua. I wasn’t there! Maybe she escaped from her captors in their car. Maybe she was right when she wondered if the clothes and money were hers. Maybe they were just in the car. I don’t know. You have to ask her, Joshua.”
I stopped and stared at her.
“I don’t know if I can do that, Cecilia. I don’t know how to tell her,” I whispered. “Or … if I can take it.”
She stood up. “You have to, Joshua. It’s the right thing to do. You can’t hide this.”
I stared at her, knowing she was right. I couldn’t lie to Rabbit.
“Do you want me to stay while you talk to her?”
I shook my head. I had to do this alone. “Can you stay … close?”
“Of course. I packed a bag. I’ll go into town. If you need me to come back, call me.”
After she left, I sat down heavily in front of the computer. Keeping the sound down, I replayed the news reel again and again. I watched Elizabeth’s husband closely. He seemed sincere; filled with worry for his missing wife and struggling. I thought of Rabbit’s injuries, her hands in particular; they could have been defensive wounds, trying to fight off an attacker. If so, she had fought hard, thinking of the shoe imprints as well as the dark handprints that had stained her arms. I thought of her nightmares, her feelings of fear and of voices yelling. They could also be memories of being abducted. I shook my head that was beginning to ache from the tension I was feeling. Rolling my shoulders, I sighed.
I pulled up another search engine, hesitated for a moment, then typed in the name Elizabeth James. I looked at the various images of this woman who looked like an older, more sombre version of my Rabbit. Her hair was up in every picture and it was rare if she ever looked straight at the camera. She was always impeccably dressed and looked very … proper. Sedate. I wouldn’t have immediately recognized her unless I saw her eyes. Almost all the pictures had her husband standing beside her. I couldn’t tell from her expression if she was happy. Her eyes told me nothing, unlike now when I could read her so easily with one look at her expressive orbs. There was always a small smile on her face, but her eyes were … vacant? I sighed. Or maybe they were simply cautious. I didn’t know. Maybe, I admitted to myself, I didn’t want to know.
I was so absorbed in studying the screen that the gasp that came from directly behind me startled me. I spun around to see Rabbit standing behind me, looking at the computer. Her face was pale and her eyes darted rapidly between my face and the screen, not understanding what she was seeing.
Her voice was shaky. “Josh … Joshua?”
I stood up and went to her, pulling her into my arms. I could feel her trembling. I pressed her face into my shoulder and rocked us, needing just to feel her close for a moment.
I pulled back and looked down at her. Her eyes stared at me with trepidation. I cupped her cheek with my hand in a gentle caress, and then silently led her to the desk, pulling her down onto my lap. She stared at the images on my screen.
“That’s me?” she questioned nervously.
“It is.”
She stared at the screen for a moment. “I look … different.”
“You’re all dressed up, Rabbit. Out on the town.”
She looked at me with a frown.
I smiled gently. ”You just look different than you’re used to seeing yourself right now, that’s all.”
“I need you to watch something, Rabbit. Watch it carefully, okay?”
She nodded, both her hands clasping one of mine tightly. I hit the button to replay the clip and studied her closely as she watched it. Her brow furrowed as she watched the screen intently. I didn’t see any dawning of recognition on her face. The only noise she made was when her picture came up with Brian. She drew back, her hand over her mouth, tears silently coursing down her cheeks. My heart plummeted.
“Do you remember him, Rabbit?”
She stared at the screen in silence. Then she shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “Nothing.”
She stood up and started pacing. Her hands were wringing together over and over again. “I’m married? That’s my … husband?”
I nodded.
She stared at me for a moment, as if unable to comprehend what was happening.
“But I wasn’t wearing a ring,” her voice trembled.
“Perhaps you lost it, or it was taken from you,” I said patiently.
I held out my hand. “Come back, Rabbit. Look at these pictures.” Her head shook silently. “Please, Rabbit.”