Page 77 of The Condemned (Echoes from the Past #6)

SIXTY-FIVE

Ramstein-Miesenbach, Germany

Quinn strolled down the sunlit corridor toward Jo’s room. This was her third visit to the hospital, but already the place felt familiar. She nodded to the nurses she’d met on previous visits and returned Dr. Stein’s wave as the doctor disappeared into another patient’s room.

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 makeup, 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.