Her father leaned back in his chair and sighed. “Saige, she’s your stepmother,” he chided softly.
“You know my relationship with her isn’t the best, and it never will be. She’s only ever been concerned about herself.” Saige had his full attention so she continued, “I often wonder why you’re both still married to each other.”
The only sign that she surprised him was the slight lift of both brows.
She hadn’t lied and wondered what her father still saw in the woman. Saige would never come out and say it, but she had a love-hate relationship with her stepmother, and couldn’t stand being around her, which was one of the reasons she finally got the courage to move out. She could have stayed in Port Jude, but then Christina would know every tiny detail of her life. Saige stayed within driving distance for her father when she moved to Tampa, which was about two and a half hours away from Port Jude.
“I don’t know what to say to that.” Her father looked so sad that she reached out and took both his hands into hers and held tightly.
“I love you, Dad, and I’m not blind. You’re too sweet and need a woman who—”
“Loves me,” he finished for her. He shook his head. “I’m not getting into that with you, but I’d love for you to tell me that you finally met a young man.”
“Dad,” she moaned, realizing that as per usual, when the topic of his marriage was brought into the conversation, he deflected. “I’ll let you off this time, but only because I still need to talk to you about something. I don’t think you’re going to like it, either.”
“That’s why you don’t want Christina to know?” He squeezed Saige’s fingers and, letting go, tasted the red wine that had been poured.
He motioned to the waiter to continue filling his glass.
She tried not to fidget under his gaze and succeeded.
“Ask me your questions, Saige?” Although he sat back looking relaxed, she could tell by the twitching of his fingers that he wasn’t.
“Okay, I’ll get it over with and hopefully we can enjoy our dinner afterward.”
“The best idea.” He smiled.
Inhaling, she met her father’s gaze, and said, “The warrant of execution has been issued.”
Her father’s eyes darkened, and with a silent breath he closed them while she watched him get his anger under control. “I know,” he admitted, his voice full of weariness before he averted his gaze.
Saige frowned at her father. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I saw the governor’s press conference last night and planned on telling you today.” He took a long drink of his wine. “I’m sorry, Princess. I should have called. I just know that you don’t watch television, so I figured I had time. Guess I was wrong.”
“It’s okay, Dad,” she reassured him. “Really it is. It was a shock. But that’s what I want to talk to you about.”
He frowned into his wine before nodding his head, and waited for her to get her thoughts in order.
“I need to know what happened.” She took a quick drink of water. “I’m not sure whether I want to remember what happened to me or not, but I need to know about the trial. I need to know what evidence was taken from me, and if I gave a statement. I also need to know what the convicted man said.” She reached out and took her father’s hand into hers. “I need to know why, after all this time, even with his death close, he’s never admitted to killing those girls, or what was done to me. Everything I could find online said he’s never once admitted his guilt.”
Silence descended following her rambling, and her father looked to have aged before her eyes.
“Daddy, please.” She gripped his hand. “Please help me…I’ve put it off for years. I need to know.”
Her father took a few more gulps of his wine until his second glass was empty. “Think very carefully, Saige, because once you start reading about the past, your memory may start to return and I’m not sure how wise that is.”
“Oh, Dad!” Saige moved to sit beside him. “I don’t want those memories back but there has always been a chance they’d return on their own and it might not be when I want them to. Regardless of how…or when…if they do return, I’ll have to deal with them. Since I saw the man on TV yesterday, I can’t get him out of my head.”
Her father shook his head. “That can’t be healthy after what he did to you”—his voice broke—“or those other girls.”
She swallowed her hesitation and took a deep breath, she couldn’t put it off any longer, and asked, “But what if he really is innocent?”