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Quin was looking at her. His face was hard. ‘Is there more?’
Sadie swallowed. He didn’t believe her. But she’d started now.
She sat down again on the edge of the chair, hands clasped in her lap. ‘The police...detectives...whoever they were, took me to a police station—except it wasn’t like any I’d seen before. It turned out the man I worked for was a well-known name in the organised crime world. Up to that point he’d never been caught doing anything himself—he was too powerful. The fact that I’d witnessed him murdering someone himself, on his own property, turned out to be their big break. But he fled the country before they could catch him.’
Sadie stood and paced again.
‘I knew there was something off about the house—and the people in it but I didn’t take much notice because I was only there to work part-time, to help pay for my hairdressing course. The man’s wife looked perfect, but brittle—as if she’d break into pieces if you touched her. His children were never there...always in boarding school. The people who worked for him never really joked around or chatted, like normal staff. The boss wasn’t even there most of the time, so we were cleaning a pristine house.’
Sadie’s mouth twisted now.
‘We got paid in cash. If I’d been less naive, and hadn’t been so broke, I might have questioned that.’
She sat down again.
‘Because I’d witnessed the murder, and could identify the victim when they showed me pictures, the police asked me if I’d be a witness if they ever caught my boss and got him into court. By now, there weren’t just British detectives talking to me—there were detectives from France, Spain, America... They told me that even if I said no, I’d still be in danger. My boss would be coming after me. So I agreed to put my statement on video, so it could be used as evidence someday. And then the only way they could protect me was if I went into a witness protection programme.’
Sadie stopped talking. Her mouth was dry. Quin was just looking at her. Then he stood up and walked over to the drinks cabinet and poured himself another shot of whatever he’d poured before. He swallowed it down. He looked at her again, and held up a glass in question.
She shook her head. ‘Just some water, please.’
He brought over a glass. She took a sip. Now Quin started to pace back and forth. Sadie could feel the volatile energy crackling around him...between them. Eventually he stopped and turned to face her, shaking his head.
‘You’ve had four years to come up with a story and you couldn’t come up with anything better than a plot straight out of a soap opera?’
Sadie felt deflated. And then angry.
She stood up, clutching the glass. ‘I told you it was a lot.’ Then she thought of something and said, ‘Those nightmares I used to have—remember? They were actual memories of watching that man being murdered, except I had no idea what they were about.’
Quin’s jaw was hard. ‘Easy to say now...’
Sadie’s hand was clutching the glass so tight her knuckles were white. ‘Why do you think I didn’t want to go on a date with you when you asked me out? Because I couldn’t. I wasn’t allowed to get close to anyone.’
Quin looked at her. ‘So you’re saying you only had a relationship with me because you couldn’t remember that you were in a witness protection programme.’
‘Exactly.’ Sadie had to admit that it did sound fantastical. But that had been her reality.
Quin asked, ‘When did your memory return?’
Was he starting to believe her? It didn’t look like it. If anything, his expression was even more obdurate.
‘The day Sol was born. That was when I remembered everything. It was as if a veil had been pulled back, revealing the past. I think going into the city sparked something... I knew instinctively that going into a city was dangerous...so much CCTV. I’d been told to move around—to stay in places big enough to get lost and not so small that I’d stand out. Sao Sebastiao was perfect.’ Before Quin could say anything else she asked, ‘Why do you think I had no personal effects in my apartment in Sao Sebastiao? Why was there no trace of me online?’
‘What’s your real name?’
Sadie’s chest tightened. ‘It’s Lucy White...but I haven’t been Lucy for years now. I’m Sadie.’
Because she’d been Sadie when she’d met Quin and had Sol that was who she was. Who she wanted to be.
‘You mentioned family...wherewereyour family?’
‘My parents died when I was a baby—in a car crash. I was unharmed. I was adopted, and lived with a family until I was around five. But then they had problems and handed me back into care. I was brought up in foster homes after that. It’s harder to get adopted the older you are.’
Sadie tried to hide the lingering pain of knowing that she hadn’t been enough for her adopted parents. She’d carried that feeling of being excluded all her life, like a stubborn wound. It had only been when she’d met Quin that she’d felt as if she’d found a home.
She could see now that it was part of the reason she’d fallen so hard for him—instinctively relishing the safe harbour of his love without understanding why until after her memory returned. Her upbringing had been a far cry from Quin’s.
That reminder made her feel exposed and vulnerable, she said, ‘I’d lost my memory. I had no idea who I was. You did know who you were, but you kept your past from me as much as I kept mine from you.’