Quinn knocked softly on the doorjamb and entered the room. Jo was sitting up in bed, her hair brushed and woven into a braid that snaked over her left shoulder. She wasn’t wearing any make-up, but there was color in her cheeks and her gaze was alert and full of anticipation. Her face broke into a radiant smile when she spotted Quinn.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” she said.
“I brought you some chocolate,” Quinn said, her voice conspiratorially low.
“Bless you. I’m sick to death of hospital food, and with Rhys gone, there’s no one to bring me treats.” Jo accepted the small box of chocolate and tore off the plastic. She held out the box to Quinn, but when Quinn refused, she popped a piece into her mouth and rolled her eyes in ecstasy. “I love chocolate,” she said through a full mouth.
“Me too,” Quinn confessed. “All right, give me one.”
Quinn bit into a piece of chocolate and studied Jo while she enjoyed her treat. Jo was as happy as a kid on Christmas morning, but Quinn was about to bring her a bag of coal. So far, they’d spent several hours together, talking, laughing, and trading anecdotes, but neither one had touched on the weightier issues, instinctively avoiding topics that would spoil their long-awaited reunion. But the unanswered questions pushed into the room like two-thousand-pound elephants, making it more and more difficult to pretend they weren’t there. They couldn’t keep from delving into the past forever, and Quinn wanted to have a private conversation with Jo before Seth arrived that afternoon.
Quinn swallowed her chocolate, which suddenly tasted bitter, and faced her sister. “Jo, I’ve no wish to upset you, but there are things I’d like to ask you, and I feel this might be my last chance to speak to you privately.”
Jo didn’t immediately respond but replaced the lid on the box of chocolates and set it on her bedside table. Quinn waited patiently, but Jo avoided her gaze, turning her face toward the window instead.
“Jo, there are things I learned while searching for you,” Quinn tried again.
Jo finally faced Quinn. The look in her eyes could only be described as haunted. “I know. You’ve been very patient with me. I would have blurted out what was on my mind right away; diplomacy has never been my strong suit. You can ask me anything, and I will answer. You’ve been so open with me about your own life.”
Not really, thought Quinn. Not yet. But this wasn’t the time to interrogate Jo about her psychic abilities, if she possessed any. First things first. “Jo, why did you go to such lengths to disappear?”
Jo’s eyes widened in surprise. “I wasn’t trying to disappear. Quite the opposite, in fact.”
“So why did you change your name and cut ties with your family?”
A look of deep sadness filled Jo’s eyes, but she didn’t flinch away from the question. She smiled ruefully as her fingers pleated the crisp white duvet cover. “My childhood wasn’t as happy as yours, Quinn. My father was an impulsive man, a selfish man. He made decisions that affected others without a moment’s hesitation or consideration for how they might feel. He decided to adopt me and made a statement to the press without ever consulting his wife, a callous move she never quite forgave him for. You see, everyone thought he was the soul of kindness and compassion, but in truth, he was vain and self-aggrandizing. As soon as the adoption went through, he lost interest in me because the newspapers lost interest in the story.”
“How do you know?” Quinn asked.
“Oh, my mother accused him of neglect often enough. My brother and sister plugged their ears with headphones, but I always listened in on their arguments. I thought I might learn something about my birth parents, but it turned out they didn’t know any more than I did.”
“What about your mother? What was she like?” Quinn asked, hoping Jo had at least one loving parent.
“My mother was a kind woman and did her best for me, but she hadn’t wanted another child, especially not an infant. Karen and Michael were in their late teens by the time I came along, and she was looking forward to having a bit of freedom to finally pursue her own interests. My father dumped me in her lap and went on with his life as if nothing had changed. I spent a large portion of my childhood with nannies. Some of them were very kind, but I wasn’t their daughter. I wasn’t theirs to love.”
“That sounds lonely,” Quinn said, recalling her own family. It was small, but they’d been very close, and her parents’ lives revolved around her. And there were relatives and friends, and especially Jill, who was her honorary sister.
“It was. I spent a lot of time reading, which is when I developed a love for history. I liked all those romantic stories of maidens in distress and strong, handsome men coming to the rescue, but as I got older, I became obsessed with World War Two. I hero-worshipped Alan Turing. To my mind, he singlehandedly won the war with his Enigma machine. And what a wonderful thank you he got from our esteemed government. Prison or chemical castration—those were his choices,” Jo added bitterly.
“But why change your name?”
“My father was a big fan of honesty. He felt it would be a disservice to me to withhold the truth of my origins, so I knew from the earliest age that my mother had abandoned me, left me struggling for breath in a hospital chair and walked away without a backward glance, leaving me with nothing but a name scribbled on a scrap of paper. I wanted no part of her. I didn’t want that woman’s one choice pertaining to my future to define who I was. Quentin sounded so pompous, so cumbersome, and impossible to shorten. Some of my friends tried calling me ‘Q,’ but I hated that. I wanted a name that was airy and light, and fun. I couldn’t imagine some stodgy, humorless woman being called Jo. Jo was the name of a hippy, a world traveler, a woman who got to pick and choose rather than wait to be noticed. I wanted to be that woman.”
“And you are,” Quinn said, smiling.
Jo shook her head. “Not really. I’m still the same person, only I have a different name.”
Quinn reached for Jo’s hand and they sat in silence for a moment, each one focused on her own thoughts until Quinn finally spoke. “There’s more, isn’t there?”
Jo nodded. “Yes, there’s more.” She exhaled deeply. “When I was sixteen, Michael moved back home. He was going through an ugly divorce and needed a place to stay for a while. His wife left him for a friend of his and he was devastated. I felt sorry for him, and for the first time in my life I felt like I had a real sibling. We began spending time together. We went walking in the park, and out for pizza and a film. We went bike riding, and he took me to the hospital to show me where he worked. It was nice. I felt close to him and hoped that in time I might build a relationship with Karen as well. Karen had never been unkind to me; she simply took no notice of me. I wasn’t a part of her reality. She was older and had her own life, and even if I’d been her actual sister, I think she might have treated me much the same. But she was close to Michael, and even thanked me for trying to help him through a difficult time.”
“So, what happened?” Quinn asked, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.
“One night, several weeks after Michael moved back, we were alone at home. Our parents went to some charity function. We had dinner and watched a film, and then I went to my room. I thought Michael had gone to bed, but then I heard him on the phone. He and his wife Kayla were having a massive row. He was shouting at her and I thought I heard him crying. Eventually, I fell asleep.” Quinn nodded. She could see where this was going, and her heart broke for Jo.
“Michael got stinking drunk. I woke up to find him in my room. He was a mess, blathering about Kayla and whimpering like a child. He said she’d emasculated him. I didn’t know what that meant. He said he needed a hug, so I gave him one. He held on to me, refused to let me go. He started kissing and touching me. I tried to push him away, begged him to stop, but he wouldn’t. He was too far gone.”
“Did he…?”
Jo nodded. “I locked myself in the bathroom and told my parents what happened as soon as they got home. I expected
them to comfort me, to take control of the situation, but instead, their first instinct was to protect Michael. If word got out, his life would be ruined. He could be struck off the medical board and even go to prison. My mother tried to calm me down, but my father began making accusations. He said I’d sent Michael the wrong signals, led him on. Michael was thirty-four and I was sixteen, and somehow this was my fault. He ordered me to go to my room.”
Jo sighed and turned to gaze out the window, where a gentle snow was falling from a nearly white sky. “By morning, Michael was gone. My father booked him into a hotel and told him to lie low. When Karen came home a few days later, she called me names and said I’d tried to ruin her brother’s life. I’d have left then, but my mother revealed she’d been diagnosed with breast cancer and begged me to stay.” Jo turned back and faced Quinn.
“By the time I graduated, Mum had died, and there was nothing to keep me from leaving. I moved in with my boyfriend, Jesse. He was a photographer. He taught me everything he knew, and I found myself falling in love with photography. It became a passion.”
“And Jesse?”
“Jesse asked me to marry him,” Jo said softly. “Perhaps I should have. He really loved me and would have probably made me happy, but I wasn’t ready to make a lifelong commitment. I was too young. So, I took off and went to Paris. I had a grand time there, and for the first time in my life I felt truly comfortable in my own skin. I was no longer Quentin Crawford, unwanted brat. I was a new person, one I could be proud of. When I returned to England, I legally changed my name, since I wanted nothing more to do with the Crawford family. My father set up a trust fund for me through his solicitor, but I’ve never touched it. I wanted to make my own way in the world, and I have.”
“I’m sorry, Jo. It must have been awful for you. Did you ever see Michael again? Has he even tried to make amends?”
“He tried to reach out to me while I still lived at home, but I refused to speak to him. What could he say that would make me hate him less? He was upset? He was drunk? He didn’t know what he was doing? He knew. He heard me begging him to stop, telling him I was still a virgin. He saw me crying. He wiped the blood off his cock after he was done with me. He committed a crime for which he should have been prosecuted, but he had parents who loved him enough to sacrifice me for the good of his future. They made a choice that night, all of them.”
Quinn moved closer and wrapped Jo in a fierce hug. All her life she’d felt incomplete because she was adopted. There’d been a hole in her sense of self, a giant question mark. It was only now that she understood how lucky she’d been, how blessed. Her parents loved her fiercely and would have protected her no matter what. Her father would have torn any man who tried to hurt her limb from limb, even if that man was his own son. She had been cared for and adored, while her sister had spent her childhood in a gilded cage, surrounded by luxury, but never truly loved. Quinn was suddenly glad she’d never met Michael Crawford. She never wanted to see his face or hear his name mentioned again.
“Jo, is there no one waiting for you back home? Friends, a boyfriend? Surely, someone must be missing you.”
Jo shook her head. “I’ve spent the past decade traveling, focusing on my work. I’ve had encounters, but not relationships,” Jo confessed. “It wasn’t until I got your letter that I realized how lonely I was.”
“So, what now?” Quinn asked. At present, they were isolated in their little cocoon, but soon enough real life would intrude on their idyll. They would return to London and resume their lives. What would their future be? Would Jo cling to her once she was back on her feet, or would she hide behind her career and keep Quinn at arm’s length?
Jo seemed to misunderstand the question. “I will take on a new assignment once I’m well enough to travel,” she replied. “Maybe a local one to start with, but those rarely interest me as much as the foreign ones. I’ll probably return to the Middle East, or Africa.”
“Jo, what were you doing in those mountains? Didn’t you realize how dangerous that was?” Quinn exclaimed, stunned by Jo’s cavalier attitude.
“I did, but I thought I’d be all right with Ali. He knew those mountains like the back of his hand.”
“Were you looking for a Taliban hideout?”
“I was looking for the opium farms. I wanted the world to see where the heroin comes from. Those drug lords supply death, and they are a lot more dangerous than the Taliban. With them, it’s not about religion or politics; it’s all about profit, and they don’t care who ingests their product, be it an adult or a child. Their only religion is profit.”
“You could have died,” Quinn admonished her.
“I’m glad I didn’t, and I’m relieved to know Ali survived the explosion. I will make sure his family is looked after,” Jo promised.
Quinn was about to ask something else when she heard a familiar voice from somewhere down the corridor. She grinned. “I think you have a visitor, sis.”
A moment later, Seth stepped into the room, a huge bouquet of flowers in his hand. He was smiling, but his posture was tense, and his dark eyes were wide with anxiety. “May I come in?” he asked softly.
“Yes,” Jo whispered. She was drinking him in, her eyes aglow with wonder as she took in the golden tan, the short dark hair, and the gleaming smile.
Seth set the bouquet on a chair and came closer. “Would it be all right to give you a hug?” he asked.
Jo nodded. Her eyes shimmered with tears and she opened her arms and welcomed Seth into them as she buried her face in his chest. “Dad,” she whispered.
Seth held her tight and kissed the top of her head. “Jo, my baby, this is such a happy day,” he said. “I didn’t think it was possible to be happier than when I met your sister, but this is—”
“I’m so glad you’re here.”
Jo finally let go of Seth and he turned his attention to Quinn. “And how is my other little girl?” He caught Quinn in a bear hug. “I’m so happy to see you. Both of you. I feel like the luckiest man in the world.”
Quinn’s phone vibrated in her pocket as Seth let her go. “Here, take my chair. I’ll give you two a few minutes to get acquainted. I think Gabe is trying to reach me.”
Quinn went out into the corridor and found a quiet place to sit. She felt emotionally drained and physically unwell. Her head ached, and there was that persistent cramping in her lower belly. She felt queasy and tired, despite the early hour. Quinn pulled out her mobile and checked her missed calls. The call had been from Logan. She stared at the screen, reluctant to ring him back. Logan wouldn’t be calling her just to check in. He was calling with news. Quinn braced herself and pressed the call back icon. Logan answered right away.
“How are you, Quinn?”
“I’m all right. I’m with Jo, and Seth just arrived. How are things on your end?”
“Not bad. Not bad at all,” Logan replied happily.
Quinn exhaled the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Tell me.”
“Jude woke up during the night. He feels weak and a little confused, but the prognosis is good. He’s been diagnosed with diffuse cerebral hypoxia.”
“In English, please,” Quinn said. The name sounded ominous, but Logan didn’t seem upset, so it couldn’t be too bad.
“Basically, it’s a minor impairment of the brain due to the lack of oxygen Jude suffered. It could have been so much worse, Quinn.”
“What will this mean for Jude long term?”
“Hopefully, nothing. Worst case scenario, he’ll need some rehabilitation therapy. He’s fully aware of everything that’s going on and his motor skills appear to be intact. It will take him several weeks to get back to some sort of normalcy, but the worst is behind him.”
“Thank God,” Quinn breathed. “Sylvia must be relieved.”
“She is. I sent her home to get some rest.”
“Are you alone?”
“Colin is with me. He sends his regards. Wants to know if you got his email.”
“Colin says there’s no rush,” Logan replied. “Whenever you’re ready.”
“Logan, give Jude my love, and tell him I’ll see him very soon.”
“When are you coming back?” Logan asked.
“In a couple of days, I think. Jo is not ready to be released, but Seth is here now, and I need to get back. I miss my family.”
“And they miss you. Gabe is feeling so forlorn, he even called me,” Logan joked. “Have you told Jo about Jude and me?”
“Of course, I have. She can’t wait to meet you.”
“What about Mum? Will she meet her?” Logan asked carefully.
“That’s up to Jo.”
“I understand. One day at a time, eh?”
“With this family, that’s the only way to go,” Quinn replied, chuckling. “I’ll see you soon.”
She finished the call and stowed her phone away. She was about to return to Jo’s room when she saw Dr. Stein walking down the corridor. She didn’t seem harried, for once.
“Dr. Allenby, good morning,” Dr. Stein called.
“Good morning. Dr. Stein, I was wondering when Jo might be released.”
Dr. Stein looked thoughtful for a moment. “If we were in London, I’d release her in a few days, but given that she must travel home, I don’t feel she is ready. I wouldn’t feel comfortable with her getting on a plane so soon after brain surgery. The changes in cabin air pressure could result in a brain bleed, to put it simply.”
“What if we were to drive?”
“What, to London?”
“Our dad’s arrived. He and I can take turns at the wheel. I know Jo wants to go home, and truthfully, I can’t stay much longer. I have a baby I need to get back to.”
Dr. Stein nodded. “As long as Jo gets plenty of rest on the drive, I don’t see a problem. I wouldn’t recommend driving straight through though. That would be too much for her to handle.”
The Condemned (Echoes from the Past Book 6) Page 38