Page 26 of In Her Mind

The door opened almost immediately, almost as if Otto and Norma had been waiting just beyond it. Their faces, marked with lines of worry and sleeplessness, searched Jenna’s for any sign of good news.

“Any word on Amber?” Otto asked, her words sounding thick with hope.

“We’ve questioned Jason Reeves,” Jenna stated matter-of-factly, stepping into the house. “But we’ve found nothing to connect him to her disappearance.”

Otto nodded slowly as Jenna told him about the arrest of his employee in Pinecrest, absorbing the information while Norma clasped her hands tightly, a silent plea in her eyes. Jenna observed the couple, and felt a pang of empathy. There was no joy in bringing them this news.

“Please, sit down,” Norma offered, gesturing to the couch. Jenna and Jake obliged, knowing that the night would bring no rest for these parents who held vigil by the phone, waiting for a call that might never come.

Jenna took a breath, steadying the tremble in her voice to match the calm she attempted to project. “Otto, when we spoke earlier, there was something you didn’t mention about Amber,” she began, watching his face intently. The room felt smaller, the air staler as she continued. “She told you yesterday that she was engaged to Liam Sweeney.”

The statement hung between them, and Jenna watched the color drain from Otto’s face. His hands unclasped and fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, an unconscious betrayal of innerturmoil. Norma turned to her husband, her expression a blend of confusion and concern. “Is that true, Otto? Is Amber engaged? Who is he?”

Jenna observed as Otto’s posture stiffened, the weight of the omission bearing down upon him. He looked at his wife, then back at Jenna and Jake, his voice barely above a whisper. “Yes. She’s... she said she was engaged to some student from Ozark State. We’ve never even met him.”

Looking angry, Otto turned toward Jenna and Jake, “How did you find out?”

“From the Doctor at the clinic,” Jenna said.

“We spoke with Liam Sweeney himself when we were in Pinecrest a little while ago,” Jake explained.

“Amber told Liam that she’d informed you about the engagement,” Jenna added, her tone even, careful not to accuse. “And that it upset you. That you said she’d ‘live to regret it.’“

Otto’s eyes flickered with recollection and pain, the raw edge of a father’s regret. Norma’s hand found his, a silent gesture of solidarity as they faced the implications of those words. Jenna could sense the tension, the unsaid fears that gripped both parents; fear for their daughter’s safety, and perhaps now, fear of suspicion.

Otto’s face, a canvas of raw emotion, betrayed him as his lips trembled, and his voice broke the tense silence. “Yes,” he whispered, the admission escaping like steam from a pressure valve long overdue for release. “I said she’d live to regret it.”

“Otto,” Jenna inquired, her voice softened with empathy, “what did you mean by that?”

He shook his head, eyes brimming with tears that threatened to spill over. “Please believe me, it wasn’t a physical threat,” he choked out, the words heavy with unspoken pain. “I meant... I was going to stop help paying for her college. That’s all.” Ottolooked away, the confession scraping at him, revealing not anger but a father’s desperate attempt to hold onto control.

Jenna nodded slowly, processing the layers of familial discord unraveling before her. There was no mistaking the crushing weight of guilt that had settled upon Otto’s shoulders, the kind that comes from words spoken that could never be unsaid.

Otto’s breath hitched as he added, his voice barely audible, “I told her... she was a bad investment.” The room seemed to contract with those words, and Norma gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. She stared at her husband with horror, witnessing the man she knew being swallowed up by remorse.

“It was anger talking,” Otto continued, scrambling to explain. “I didn’t mean it. It’s just... the last thing we spoke about was that. A terrible argument.” He closed his eyes, the image of his daughter’s hurt expression seared into his memory, a cruel echo of their final exchange.

Jenna remained silent, her presence a steady anchor in the storm of emotions swirling around the Stevenses’ living room. She understood the human capacity for regret, the ache of harsh words left to linger in the air. It was clear to her that Otto’s anguish stemmed from love, however misguided in its expression.

Otto’s frame heaved with sobs, his broad shoulders shaking as the weight of his words and the reality of his daughter’s absence bore down upon him. Jenna watched, her own heart clenching at the sight. She understood that guilt could be a relentless tormentor, and Otto was clearly in its grasp. She knew without a doubt that Otto’s regret was genuine; his tears were not those of a man trying to conceal guilt over a crime, but rather of a father grappling with the fear that his last words to his child had been unkind.

Norma moved closer to her husband, her arms encircling him, her eyes flashing with something even harder than sorrow when they met Jenna’s gaze.

“Look what you’ve done,” Norma’s voice cut through the room, “You come into our home, dredging up the worst moment between a father and his daughter. You have no news, no hope to offer—only pain.” Her protective stance over her husband was a shield, an unspoken warning that their intrusion had reached its limit.

Jenna felt the sting of Norma’s words, but she was firm. “We understand your distress, but we needed—”

“Needed to do what? Remind us of our failings?” Norma interrupted sharply.

“Norma,” Jake tried to intervene, but she wasn’t having any of it.

“No, I will not allow this,” Norma snapped, her hand gesturing towards the door. “Leave us. Don’t come back unless you can tell us where our Amber is, that she’s safe.”

The command was clear, final. Jenna met Jake’s gaze, reading the same conclusion in his eyes. There was nothing more to gain here—not tonight. With a nod, they stood up and left the Stevenses alone in their home.

As they stepped out into the cool night, Jenna felt the burden of every family’s anguish she had ever encountered. Tonight, as she walked away from the Stevenses’ doorstep, she felt the gravity of that burden deep in her bones.

“Jake,” she said, her voice carrying a hue of defeat, “we’re no closer to finding Amber than we were this morning.” She opened the driver’s side door. “We’ve done nothing here but add more pain to an already grieving family.”