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?”
She let that sink in, and when her father snapped his head back as though he’d been hit, she continued, “When I saw him on television, I didn’t fear him. Shouldn’t I have felt something like that? Fear, hate, anger? The truth is I didn’t feel anything like that. I had a sense of security. Why did I feel like that if he’s the one? I have questions and I’ve finally woken up and want answers.”
Saige leaned back in her chair and stared at her father. Anger flared in her chest and she couldn’t help but feel irritated with her father and his laid back attitude. While she’d been talking, all he’d done was shake his head as though he didn’t want to hear what she’d said.
“You can’t remember what happened, Saige. Perhaps you saw his photograph and felt sorry for him. If you can’t remember what happened, why would you have felt fear?”
“I don’t remember anything, but deep inside me the memories are there and my subconscious obviously feels safe with him. I need to know why.”
Their usual meal was placed before them, and Saige picked up her fork and started stabbing at the rice. “Did I know the man before I disappeared?”
It was barely noticeable, but her father paused before he carried on eating. She knew he wasn’t hungry and only ate to distract her. It wasn’t going to work on this occasion.
She’d let her family control her knowledge but not for any longer.
“Define know.”
In her confusion, she’d given up on the pretense of eating and glared at her father, wondering where the evasive man beside her had come from. He’d seemed defensive since the moment she’d started asking questions.
“Why are you doing this? I asked a simple question. Did I know Quinten Peterson before I disappeared? It’s a question that requires either a yes or a no. It’s not difficult,” she snapped, realizing she raised her voice in anger. She shook her head. “I don’t understand why you’re reluctant to talk to me about it.”
“Dammit, Saige. Why can’t you leave it alone?”