9. Finley

9

FINLEY

O n the way into town, I sat in the passenger side of Soren's truck, trying to swallow the bile that had risen to my throat the moment he'd told me my sister was in town. My skin felt cold and clammy, and my heart beat rapidly. There was a part of me that hoped he'd been mistaken. Yet from what I'd learned about Soren, especially over the last few weeks, he wasn't the type to succumb to an overly active imagination like me.

Why would she come here? Especially now when I'd finally gotten my life on track? I had friends and a wonderful place to live. Soren and I had developed a friendship that shocked me to my very core. Even more so, I suspected there was a chance for something more between us. I'd never have predicted he would ask me out and I would readily agree. All day I'd been walking on clouds of bliss in anticipation of seeing him again.

"Thanks for driving," I said weakly. "I wouldn't have been able to hold on to the steering wheel."

"It's my pleasure. I wish it wasn't happening, but I'm glad it was me who saw her first, so you could have at least a moment to adjust."

I nodded, taking in deep breaths and turning to watch the scenery pass. What had my sister thought when she'd seen the terrain of western Montana? Had she fallen in love with the rolling hills and open plains covered in autumn's golden grasses stretched out to meet the horizon? In the distance, the rugged peaks of the Rocky Mountains rose dramatically. Had she been awed by them as I had the first time I'd arrived here?

The two-lane road wound gently through the terrain. We passed the school, which served all twelve grades, and a few ranches with sprawling pastures enclosed by weathered wooden fences. Clusters of cottonwoods and aspens grew along creeks and the river, their leaves rustling gently in the breeze.

"She's going to ruin all this for me," I said. "I just know she is."

"Nah. This is your home now. She doesn't have the power to take it away from you."

I hoped he was right. However, he didn't know the long history between my sister and me. Whatever I had, she wanted. It had always been that way. If she decided to stay, I'd have to go. No, that wasn't acceptable. She would go. I would force her to leave. All I had to do was threaten to call the police.

We arrived at Bluefern's only motel. There were several cars parked outside the rooms, including a black sedan that appeared to be a rental car. How was she free to be out and about, renting cars in America?

"I'll go in and ask the clerk if she's here," Soren offered. "You'll be okay?"

"Yes, but hurry." My voice shook, which made me angry. Why did she have the power to ruin my life? Again.

I stared at the motel, wondering what room she had rented. The motel looked as sad as I felt. The paint on the exterior was faded and peeling, with patches of bare wood visible in several places. The once-vibrant color had dulled over time, giving the motel a tired and weathered appearance. Water stains run down from the roof, creating streaks on the facade. The roof appeared slightly sagging in spots, with shingles missing or out of place. Leaves and debris clogged the gutters. Some doors had numbers barely hanging on, while the ones for rooms four and eight were completely missing, with only the outline of the number remaining. Thin, yellowing curtains hung limply inside, visible through grimy glass windows.

A few minutes later, Soren came out and got back into his truck. "She's here. Room 7."

"I don't know if I can do this."

"I'll go with you, okay? We can do it together."

Too scared to argue or try for internal strength, I nodded. "Yeah, okay."

I couldn't feel my legs as we crossed the asphalt parking lot to the door of Room 7. Soren knocked lightly on the door. For a moment, nothing happened. It was as if time stilled and everything went into slow motion. Then the dingy yellow curtain inside the window moved. A second later, the door swung open.

Danielle stood before me.

She looked well. Which came as a surprise. I'd thought the drugs would have ruined her health by now. However, she looked bright-eyed, her skin dewy and flushed. She wore a pair of jeans and a light sweater. Was she clean and sober?

"Hey, Fin," Danielle said. "Surprise."

My throat was so dry I could hardly speak. "How did you find me? And what are you doing here?"

"I hired someone. A private detective. It took some time, but he located you eventually."

That knocked the air right out of me. I saw black dots swimming before my eyes.

"Who is this?" Danielle asked, gesturing toward Soren.

"I'm Soren Moon. Finley's friend."

Danielle narrowed her eyes, sizing him up. "Nice to meet you." She held out her hand and Soren shook it, despite the hard set of his mouth that told me how little he trusted her. Who could blame him after what I'd told him?

She backed up, opening the door wider. "Do you want to come in?"

"Do you want me to wait for you in the truck?" Soren asked me.

I met his gaze, touched by his generosity. "Yeah. I won't be long."

Soren nodded at Danielle. "Miss Baker."

"See you around," Danielle said.

Soren left us, and I took a step inside, wondering if I was about to make another mistake when it came to my sister. I quickly scanned the room for drug paraphernalia but saw only a bag of crisps and cans of cola over by the television. A small suitcase lay open on the luggage rack.

"Have a seat?" Danielle gestured toward the round table by the window.

My legs shook and I felt lightheaded, as if I were in a dream. Or, more specifically, a nightmare. I sat, grateful to do so.

"Seriously, Danielle, why are you here? I don't have any money."

"If I wanted money, there are easier ways to get it than flying all the way to America." My sister took the chair across from me. "Do you want a soft drink or anything?"

"No, thanks."

"It's been a while," Danielle said.

"Years and a prison sentence. Again, why are you here?"

The color faded from her cheeks. She bit her bottom lip as she had done when we were kids and she was trying not to cry. "I came to say sorry. Make amends. I'm in a twelve-step program with Narcotics Anonymous."

"Ah, I see. I'm one of your steps." Figures.

"What I did to you was unforgivable. I'm sorry for everything. Like, truly sorry."

"How did you avoid jail?" I asked coldly.

"I made a deal. My cooperation in exchange for immunity."

"You've got to be kidding?"

Her brow creased. "No, I turned on my boyfriend and his cousin. I told the authorities everything I knew. They were doing some bad stuff. Things I didn't know about at first. I thought they were just small-time drug pushers and thieves, but they were much more than that."

"Did they arrest you?" I asked.

"No, I turned myself in. After they let you out, I knew it was only a matter of time before they came after me. We were hiding out down south, but it was no life. He had me trapped in this little house out in the middle of nowhere. I didn't know how to get away from him. But one day, they left me alone to do some job, and I escaped. I ran to the nearest town as fast as I could."

"Were you still using?"

"I didn't want to be, but yes. Once I turned myself in, I got help. Like I said, I told them everything I knew, and they sent me to rehab instead of jail."

"Let me get this straight—you tattled on your boyfriend and got off without any repercussions?"

"I wouldn't say no repercussions exactly." She put up her hands. "You're angry and I don't blame you, but there are things you don't know."

"Like what?"

"When I first met Mark I was still reeling from Mum and Dad's deaths. You were at university and had structure and purpose, whereas I was adrift. Men have always been my weakness. Mark seemed like a good person at first. But he quickly got me hooked on drugs as a way to control me. I don't remember robbing that bank. There are days and days I can't remember. That's how messed up on drugs I was."

"How could you let me go to jail for you?" Despite my intentions otherwise, I started to cry.

"I wasn't in my right mind. That's my only excuse. And really, I'm not looking to make excuses. I came to make amends. I don't expect forgiveness or anything—I just wanted to tell you face-to-face how sorry I am for my actions."

"Where's Mark now?"

"He's in prison. The cousin too. I didn't know this at the time, but I wasn't the first woman they basically abducted and got hooked on drugs. There were several others before me."

"What happened to them?"

She blinked rapidly before answering. "They're all dead. Drug overdoses. Which would have been my fate eventually. It was only a matter of time before Mark was bored with me. I learned a lot about him after I went to the police."

"When was this? How long have you been free?"

"Under a year. I got out of rehab a few months ago. That's when I started looking for you."

"So you came to say you're sorry? Is there anything else?" I asked, fighting more tears.

"Only that I love you. If there was something I could do to give you that year of your life back, I would. I won't stay, I promise. I only wanted a chance to see you one more time. I wasn't sure you'd want to see me, or I would have called or written first. I figured it was harder to send me away if I was already here."

"You look good," I said. "That place must have done a good job rehabilitating you."

"They did. I have coping skills now—ways to work through my emotions that don't require me to numb my brain. I'm even thinking about going back to school and getting a counseling degree. I'd like to help people like me."

I nodded, unsure what to say. It would be a lie to say I believed in her. She'd done too many things to hurt me, making it impossible to trust her after one apology.

"Nothing's more important to me than my sobriety," Danielle said. "I understand you probably don't want anything to do with me, but I had to come anyway."

I wanted to believe her. I really did. But it was hard to reconcile the woman in front of me with the one I'd known. The sister who had allowed me to take what should have been her punishment was the sister I'd known since our parents died. Selfish, addicted, lost.

"I appreciate the apology," I said. "Forgiving you may be impossible."

"Again, I can't blame you at all."

"Has it been hard to stay clean?" I asked.

"One day at a time—I really want to be clean, so the motivation helps. I go to a meeting every day. I mean, when I'm not traipsing halfway around the world to make amends to the person I love more than anyone or anything."

Tears pricked the back of my eyelids. "I'm glad you're doing so well. I prayed for you to get the help you need."

"It must have worked because here I am."

"Did you know I was on trial?" This detail mattered to me.

"Not until you'd been convicted." She met my gaze, her eyes full of remorse. "This isn't an excuse, but Mark kept me in a kind of prison in that cottage. He took out the television and made sure I had no internet access. It wasn't until later that I saw you on the news."

"And you didn't think to come forward then?" I asked.

"I would have if I'd been able to. But again—I was kept on a tight leash."

"Yeah, right." I said softly, clasping my hands in my lap. What was I supposed to do now? Take her home and introduce her to the people who were beginning to feel like family? Did I dare risk her contaminating my new life and friends with her lies?

Danielle reached across the table as if to tap my shoulder but seemed to think better of it. "By the time I ran, you'd already been released. I had no idea where you were."

"When are you returning to England?"

"I'm not sure. Since I'm here, I thought I might travel a little. Now that I'm in the clear legally, I'm free to roam."

"America's expensive." How would she pay for a trip around the States? I braced myself, waiting for her to ask me for money.

Danielle tilted her head, peering at me. "You look good, Fin. The fresh air must be good for you."

"I'm happy here. I have friends and a job I love."

"So, you're planning on staying?" Danielle asked.

"As of now, yes. I don't have anything to return home to. I lost all my friends when I went to prison. My life as I knew it never returned."

"Do you miss home?"

"Sometimes," I said noncommittally.

"What about the boyfriend?" Danielle asked. "What was his name?"

I didn't bother to tell her. "He didn't stick around after I was arrested."

Danielle's eyes filled. "I'm so sorry for everything. If I could take it back, I would. All I can do is what I'm doing now."

"I do appreciate you coming to make your amends." It was the truth. She'd come a long way to apologize to me. That had to be worth something.

"But you're not ready to forgive?"

Was I? When I imagined giving in to her, a hard-shelled nut stuck in my throat. She'd let me go to prison in her place. I could have rotted in there if it hadn't been for a few good people trying to do the right thing. I must remember what she did and not give in as I'd always done when we were kids. "No. I wish I was a bigger person, but when I think of what you did to me—your twin —when it was only you and me left—I can't get past it. Anyway, I need to look after myself."

"I understand. I'll be gone soon enough."

I rose to my feet, then stood there feeling awkward. My shirt clung to my back despite the chilly room. "I have to go. Soren's waiting."

She got up as well, wrapping her arms around her slender waist. "Thanks for coming to see me. By the way, how did you know I was here?"

"Soren saw you in town and thought at first that you were me. When he realized who you were, he came home to tell me."

"Are you and Soren…together?"

"No, just friends." I longed to tell her every detail as a sister would, but I held myself back. This whole making amends thing could be a ruse and she was really here to bilk me of money as she had done so many times in the past. I had a good mind to look into Mark when I got back to a computer. It should be easy enough to tell if he had been convicted.

"I've got to get back to work."

"Yes, sure. Off you go." Danielle walked to the door and opened it for me.

For a moment, I couldn't move. This was the only family I had left. Was I really going to walk away from her when she'd come to make things right? All I had to do was invite her out to the house or even just to dinner at the grill. However, the words would not come. Instead, I walked to the door and prepared to go.

Before I could do so, Danielle grabbed me into an embrace. "Just one hug before you leave me."

My arms hung limply by my side for a second or two, until I relented and hugged her back. In that brief moment, it was as if no time had passed. Even her hair smelled as I remembered.

When I withdrew, I asked, "What money are you living on?"

"The coffee shop paid well, and I stayed with a friend so I could put everything away. My only goal was to find you."

"You actually have a friend left?" The knot in the back of my throat had turned painful. "Someone you hadn't ripped off?" I'd not meant for that last question to come out of my mouth, but I appeared defenseless to the bitterness that still wrapped around me.

A flash of sadness showed in her eyes. "Yes, Patricia's someone I knew before I got involved with Mark. We worked together back in the day. When I managed to get away from Mark, I asked if she'd let me stay with her for a bit. She took me in, thank God. She's very supportive—kind of a mother figure to me."

"I have one of those too," I said, thinking of Stella. "Soren's mum pretty much mothers us all. He has four brothers, so she's accustomed to being there for anyone who needs her."

"I'm glad for you," Danielle said.

I turned the knob and stepped outside to the chilly day. "Good luck with sobriety."

"I'm going to stay a few more days," Danielle said. "Explore a little. If you want to see me again, you know where I am."

"I don't want to see you again. Goodbye, Danielle." I gave her a brief, thin smile and then headed across the parking lot to Soren.