The Last Echo
Page 51
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
But it wasn’t the neatly arranged icons on the screen that she noticed; it was the background image. Not standard. Not preprogrammed.
An actual photograph of Sara with a woman who looked like an older version of herself. A little more worn and weary, but so familiar that Violet was certain they were related. They had the same sharply focused blue eyes.
The same ones that Rafe had.
“Violet? What are you doing here?”
Violet gasped, her hand flying to her chest—away from the mouse—and she hoped Sara didn’t think she’d been snooping on purpose.
She turned, her eyes wide and her heart pounding. “Nothing. I wasn’t doing anything.”
Sara’s eyebrow quirked. She still looked tired, her face drawn, with purple shadows smudged beneath her eyes, but she was definitely more pulled together today than she had been at the hospital the day before. Somehow she managed to make even jeans and a sweater look formal. “I just meant, what are you doing here on a Sunday?” And then concern clouded her face and her brows drew together. “Is everything okay?”
Violet offered a hasty nod. “Yeah, I’m fine. I didn’t hear you come in.”
Sara smiled. “I came in the back way.”
“I didn’t know there was a back way.”
The corner of Sara’s mouth ticked up, as if she had a secret she was dying to share. “There are lots of things you don’t know yet.”
But even as she said the words, they both recognized the truth in them. There were things that she and Rafe hadn’t meant for Violet to know. Yet now she did.
She exhaled. “I guess you have some questions for me. Come on, let’s have a seat.”
Sara led Violet to a seating area and settled onto one of the oversized chairs. She slipped off her shoes, tucking her feet beneath her. Violet sat on the sofa, fidgeting as she tried to get comfortable.
Sara sighed wearily as she leaned against the armrest. “I’m sorry you had to find out that way. I certainly hadn’t planned to blindside you like that.”
Violet’s lips twitched at Sara’s choice of words. “How had you planned to blindside me?”
Wistfully, Sara smiled back at her, and she looked down at her lap for a moment. “It’s just . . . you’re the first person Rafe has even come close to opening up to since . . .” She hesitated again. “You’re the first friend he’s made since he’s been here.”
“That’s kind of what I’ve heard, but I don’t really get it.”
Sara frowned, lifting her blue eyes as she tried to explain. “You’re different, Violet. He’s different when he’s around you.” Violet recoiled against Sara’s words.
She supposed she hadn’t really believed Sam when he’d told her, but hearing it from Sara . . . she could no longer deny it was true, even to herself.
“What about you?” Violet asked. “He has you, and you’re his . . . sister.” The word sounded strange on her tongue, unfamiliar in the context of the two of them.
Sara grinned slowly, knowingly. “Yes, he has me. And I’ll always be there for him. He’s the reason I formed the team in the first place. When he first told me . . . well, you know, what he could do, it caused . . . problems for him.” She winced, and Violet wondered if she’d even realized she’d done it. “He got into some trouble—it wasn’t his fault—but he needed someplace to go. I offered to take him in.”
“Does everyone else . . . I mean, do the others on the team . . . do they all know about you and Rafe?”
Sara shrugged, reminding Violet so much of Rafe in that moment it was almost eerie. “I imagine they know, or at least suspect. They are psychics, after all. But Rafe prefers it this way, with no one talking about it. He doesn’t want anyone to think he gets special treatment. And I think he feels like the less they know about him, the less they’ll think he’s one of them.”
“But he is one of them.”
Grinning, Sara answered, “Just don’t tell him that. He likes to think of himself as a loner. He doesn’t like to think he needs anyone.” She leaned back. “He’s wrong, though. He needs us, he just won’t admit it.”
“What about your parents? Where are they?” Violet asked, wondering if she was prying.
But Sara didn’t seem to mind. “My dad’s fine and living in Boise. Rafe’s dad—” She sighed. “He’s never been around. He took off after he found out our mom was pregnant. No one’s heard from him since. My parents were divorced when I was four, and Rafe wasn’t born until I was already a teenager. Honestly, I barely noticed him, even though he did everything he could think of to get my attention.” She squeezed her eyes shut, as if the memory were painful. “I wish I would have let him tag along all those times he asked me if he could. I wish I’d been a better sister.”
Violet felt bad for her. She didn’t have siblings, but she knew what it was like to have her little cousins following her around, wanting her attention. She couldn’t imagine turning her back on them. “And your mother? Does she live around here?”
Sara frowned. “Our mom died from lung cancer, almost two years ago. The tragedy is, she wasn’t even a smoker. The doctors have no idea how she got it.” Her voice cracked, and Violet felt guilty for asking such personal questions. But Sara continued, blinking against unseen tears. “Rafe went to live with my mom’s sister—our aunt Jenny—after that. I came back for the funeral, but even then, I was so busy . . . overworked . . . and I didn’t realize how . . .” She shrugged, struggling for the right word. “. . . how lonely Rafe was. I mean, I knew he was sad; we both were. But now when I look back, Rafe had completely withdrawn.” She choked on a bitter laugh. “I chalked it up to his age. Aren’t all teens withdrawn and mopey . . . especially the ones who just lost their mother?”
An actual photograph of Sara with a woman who looked like an older version of herself. A little more worn and weary, but so familiar that Violet was certain they were related. They had the same sharply focused blue eyes.
The same ones that Rafe had.
“Violet? What are you doing here?”
Violet gasped, her hand flying to her chest—away from the mouse—and she hoped Sara didn’t think she’d been snooping on purpose.
She turned, her eyes wide and her heart pounding. “Nothing. I wasn’t doing anything.”
Sara’s eyebrow quirked. She still looked tired, her face drawn, with purple shadows smudged beneath her eyes, but she was definitely more pulled together today than she had been at the hospital the day before. Somehow she managed to make even jeans and a sweater look formal. “I just meant, what are you doing here on a Sunday?” And then concern clouded her face and her brows drew together. “Is everything okay?”
Violet offered a hasty nod. “Yeah, I’m fine. I didn’t hear you come in.”
Sara smiled. “I came in the back way.”
“I didn’t know there was a back way.”
The corner of Sara’s mouth ticked up, as if she had a secret she was dying to share. “There are lots of things you don’t know yet.”
But even as she said the words, they both recognized the truth in them. There were things that she and Rafe hadn’t meant for Violet to know. Yet now she did.
She exhaled. “I guess you have some questions for me. Come on, let’s have a seat.”
Sara led Violet to a seating area and settled onto one of the oversized chairs. She slipped off her shoes, tucking her feet beneath her. Violet sat on the sofa, fidgeting as she tried to get comfortable.
Sara sighed wearily as she leaned against the armrest. “I’m sorry you had to find out that way. I certainly hadn’t planned to blindside you like that.”
Violet’s lips twitched at Sara’s choice of words. “How had you planned to blindside me?”
Wistfully, Sara smiled back at her, and she looked down at her lap for a moment. “It’s just . . . you’re the first person Rafe has even come close to opening up to since . . .” She hesitated again. “You’re the first friend he’s made since he’s been here.”
“That’s kind of what I’ve heard, but I don’t really get it.”
Sara frowned, lifting her blue eyes as she tried to explain. “You’re different, Violet. He’s different when he’s around you.” Violet recoiled against Sara’s words.
She supposed she hadn’t really believed Sam when he’d told her, but hearing it from Sara . . . she could no longer deny it was true, even to herself.
“What about you?” Violet asked. “He has you, and you’re his . . . sister.” The word sounded strange on her tongue, unfamiliar in the context of the two of them.
Sara grinned slowly, knowingly. “Yes, he has me. And I’ll always be there for him. He’s the reason I formed the team in the first place. When he first told me . . . well, you know, what he could do, it caused . . . problems for him.” She winced, and Violet wondered if she’d even realized she’d done it. “He got into some trouble—it wasn’t his fault—but he needed someplace to go. I offered to take him in.”
“Does everyone else . . . I mean, do the others on the team . . . do they all know about you and Rafe?”
Sara shrugged, reminding Violet so much of Rafe in that moment it was almost eerie. “I imagine they know, or at least suspect. They are psychics, after all. But Rafe prefers it this way, with no one talking about it. He doesn’t want anyone to think he gets special treatment. And I think he feels like the less they know about him, the less they’ll think he’s one of them.”
“But he is one of them.”
Grinning, Sara answered, “Just don’t tell him that. He likes to think of himself as a loner. He doesn’t like to think he needs anyone.” She leaned back. “He’s wrong, though. He needs us, he just won’t admit it.”
“What about your parents? Where are they?” Violet asked, wondering if she was prying.
But Sara didn’t seem to mind. “My dad’s fine and living in Boise. Rafe’s dad—” She sighed. “He’s never been around. He took off after he found out our mom was pregnant. No one’s heard from him since. My parents were divorced when I was four, and Rafe wasn’t born until I was already a teenager. Honestly, I barely noticed him, even though he did everything he could think of to get my attention.” She squeezed her eyes shut, as if the memory were painful. “I wish I would have let him tag along all those times he asked me if he could. I wish I’d been a better sister.”
Violet felt bad for her. She didn’t have siblings, but she knew what it was like to have her little cousins following her around, wanting her attention. She couldn’t imagine turning her back on them. “And your mother? Does she live around here?”
Sara frowned. “Our mom died from lung cancer, almost two years ago. The tragedy is, she wasn’t even a smoker. The doctors have no idea how she got it.” Her voice cracked, and Violet felt guilty for asking such personal questions. But Sara continued, blinking against unseen tears. “Rafe went to live with my mom’s sister—our aunt Jenny—after that. I came back for the funeral, but even then, I was so busy . . . overworked . . . and I didn’t realize how . . .” She shrugged, struggling for the right word. “. . . how lonely Rafe was. I mean, I knew he was sad; we both were. But now when I look back, Rafe had completely withdrawn.” She choked on a bitter laugh. “I chalked it up to his age. Aren’t all teens withdrawn and mopey . . . especially the ones who just lost their mother?”