28 Days

Her father held his hand up to keep her silent as he continued, “Quinten’s defense attorney explained in court, in front of the jurors, about the gash along Quinten’s arm that had bled all over the shack as to the reason why his DNA would be found. So did the detective. Photographic evidence along with the doctor’s report was produced as evidence.

“I honestly don’t know what to think, and every now and again when there’s mention of Quinten Peterson on TV, I start thinking again as to whether or not he really was guilty.”

He took a deep breath and stared into his coffee before he added, “One thing that I’ve never been able to understand is that he loved you, Saige.” Her father stood and walked around the table to sit beside her, his arm going around her shoulders. “I knew he was married, which you and I fought over. I also knew that his marriage had fallen apart a while before he met you.” He smiled. “I’m a guy, honey, and you only had to watch Quinten when you were around. The guy loved you. So why would he do something to cause you harm?”

“It doesn’t make sense,” Saige mumbled. “I want to remember him, Dad. I want to remember our time together that you and Alex have now confirmed was real. The not knowing is driving me crazy.”

“I guess I was happy to just let everything take its course. While you had no memory, it was fine…it was easier…for you.” He paused and looked ashamed. “It was wrong of me, but it was easier for me. I’ve tried, since then, to forget. To forget the sight of my daughter all bloodied and cut. To forget that the little girl who used to look up to me, and call me Daddy was forever changed. I wanted you to remember. But you never have. Until now it would seem.”

“I don’t remember him. I remember the tattoos on his arms and hands. I also remember that the man who held me didn’t have any.”

“What?” Her father was stunned and sat back in the chair, his arms dropping to his sides.

“Quinten didn’t take me, Dad. Someone else did,” Saige stated.

His mouth opened and closed as though he couldn’t form the words he needed to say. Then he finally managed, “Then we need to go to his attorney, and file paperwork to get a stay in his execution.”

“I already spoke to Detective Robinson, the detective from my case.” Saige sighed. “I only remember hands. That’s it. There is still the DNA evidence that convicted him. I can’t do anything about that. That’s why I wanted to know about the photographs.” Saige grabbed her father’s hand. “I need to know if I had my memory directly after being found. Was I capable of remembering my abductor?”

Her father squeezed her hand and rubbed his forehead. “At first I thought you did remember. You were on a few different medications at the time for pain and they gave you a sedative to keep you calm and relaxed. The latter was Christina’s idea, and I agreed. I never really questioned your memory at first because you knew your stepmom and me, you recognized one of your close friends at the time when she came to see you. So when I came back into the room after taking an urgent call, your stepmom told me you’d selected the image of Quinten. I was surprised.”

“Dad, Christina asked me if I recognized anyone and I picked Quinten. No one, including the DA or the detective, asked me if I recognized my abductor. Do you know where I’m going with this? We were in a relationship, so I picked him, or I didn’t remember who he actually was, just that I thought he was familiar. How did I react when selecting that image of him?”

Her father shook his head and admitted, “That’s what I meant when I said I had an urgent phone call. Just as the detective was setting the video camera up, I got a call from the private hospital that we ended up transferring you to.” Now her father looked uncomfortable.

He knew she had hated it there, at least, the time that she remembered, but her father had left her under the care of Dr. Erikson. Creepy Erik, as one of the other patients had called him. That much she did remember from the final weeks she’d been in the hospital.

“They had a reputation of helping victims of trauma,” her father continued. “I wanted the best for you because, at the time, I wasn’t sure you were being truthful about not remembering anything. I’m ashamed of that. It took a few months but then it became apparent that there was more than the attack that you couldn’t remember. You ended up staying at the hospital too damn long for my liking. When I visited you, you’d just stare through me. The first words you spoke were just before I took you home. I had enough of listening to your doctor. I should have done that long before I did. I’ll always be sorry for that.” He looked away.

Wiping at a tear, Saige tried not to think about the hospital because, every time she did, chills raced down her spine. But that was the first time she heard her father talk about regret.