Page 38 of Finding Jess

She set the papers down and met Jess’ gaze with an impressed smile. “These look great.”

Jess nodded, her tense expression melting into one of satisfaction. “Good. And once you get me the rest of the details, I can finalize them. Then we can get to work on a release for next month.”

Sam nodded slowly. “Sorry. I was planning to get the rest of the details together for you last night, but—I couldn’t really focus on it.”

Jess hummed, glancing away as her lips formed a tight line across her face. “Yeah, I bet.”

Sam snorted a laugh. “No, I mean—nothing like that. I tried to work. Just had too much on my mind, I guess, with everything from last night.”

She opened her mouth to say more, but the words dried up when she caught Jess glancing at her like she was weighing whether to bring up something heavier.

“Yeah,” Jess started, her voice softer now, hesitant. “How do you feel? I mean—after seeing Liz’s parents again.”

Sam’s grip tightened on the edge of the papers, knuckles paling. She’d known it was coming—of course Jess would ask. But it still felt like the floor tilted beneath her, just for a second.

Talking about her mother had always been easy, in a way. It wasn’t a complicated situation. A woman with a drug problem left a child behind.

It was a story told many times before. A one sentence explanation that everyone understood. Sure, it was sad. But it was alsosimple.

The other parts, however, were anything but. How could she explain the other adults in her life not wanting her when she needed it most? When it all finally came to its inevitable end, and none of them thought she was worth taking in.

There was no simple way to explain that. No neat and clean words to describe that humiliating realization. The painful moment she discovered that it wasn’t just an addict who didn’t love her enough to stick around.

But that none of them did.

She forced herself to exhale slowly, leaning back into the couch as she rubbed the back of her neck.

“It was—weird,” Sam admitted. Her voice was rougher now, like it was raking out against old, scarred memories.

Jess was quiet for a few moments, waiting for an explanation that Sam didn’t know how to give. Then finally she asked, “So, private school? You never told me about that.”

Sam shrugged. “My first grade teacher said I needed more of a challenge than what I could get in public school. She applied for me and got me into the scholarship program at the private school down the road.” She cleared her throat, rolling her shoulders. “That’s uh—that’s how I met Liz.”

Jess nodded, looking down. “Liz said you guys went to school together. But she didn’t mention any of the other stuff.”

That wasn’t a surprise. To her, that time was completely life altering. Her entire world crumbled in just a few days. But to Liz, nothing changed. Sure, she lost her best friend. But she kept everything else. The same parents. Same school. Same soccer team.

The samelife.

While Sam was left picking up the pieces of hers.

“Yeah,” she breathed. “I wouldn’t expect her to.”

Jess’ gaze softened. It was the way she’d looked at her from the very beginning. The same way she’d looked at her the first time they’d really ever talked about it. One rainy night in the diner. One night that seemed to alter things between them.

Even now, eight years later, she could still feel the warmth from Jess’ hand on her own. The way every one of her nerve endings had ignited when Jess wrapped her arms around her as they rode home that night.

The way her body ached—begged—to feel it again the moment it was gone.

“Last night was fine, though.” Sam swallowed, her throat tight. “I mean, they were fine. It was just—weird.”

Jess’ brow furrowed, and she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “Maybe they think pretending everything’s fine is easier.”

Their faces flashed in her mind. The way Mrs. Jacobs had hugged her so tight it almost hurt, like she was still the little girl they’d known. And maybe she had been, for a brief moment, until the reality of it all came crashing back in. The memory played on repeat—the look in Mr. Jacobs’ eyes when he asked her why she hadn’t played soccer in college, the way he’d lit up talking about the old days, like he’d completely forgotten what had come after.

“It was like they didn’t even remember what happened.” The words ghosted past Sam’s lips in little more than a whisper. “Like none of that was real.”

Jess’ expression softened even more. “Just because they wanted to act like it didn’t happen, that doesn’t mean you have to do the same.”

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