Page 95 of The Unforgiven
“Good. I’m ravenous.”
FIFTY
Quinn felt an acute sense of loss as soon as the door closed behind Gabe and Emma. Without Emma’s chatter and the squeaky voice of Mickey Mouse, the room was unbearably quiet. They would come back later, but for now Quinn had to follow Dr. Glahn’s orders. She removed the lid and faced her breakfast. Scrambled eggs, toast, butter, and a packet of grape jelly. There was also weak tea and a container of orange juice. Despite her hunger, the sight of the food brought back the nausea. For one terrible moment, she was right back in the dark tomb, terrified and alone.
Not alone. The baby gave Quinn a vicious kick and she laughed out loud. “All right, you. I get the message. I’m eating,” she said to her belly and picked up a forkful of egg. It wasn’t the best breakfast she’d ever had, but it would suffice. Once she began eating, she actually felt better. The nausea receded and the terrible weakness in her limbs began to ebb, replaced by a feeling of wellbeing, or something close to it. Quinn ate as much as she could and pushed the tray away.
The blinds were partially closed, but shafts of sunlight peeked between the plastic slats.Sunlight. She’d thought she’d never see it again. Funny how so many things in life could be friend or foe, depending on the situation. When on a dig in the Middle Eastern desert, there were days when Quinn had thought the sun would burn her to cinders and made sure to cover every part of her body before leaving her tent in the morning. There, the sun was a ruthless enemy that took no prisoners. But when she had been locked in that tomb, she’d have given anything for one more glimpse of the light, one more sunrise, and one more chance to look up at the vast blueness of the sky.
Quinn leaned back and closed her eyes against the light that crept along the wall and caressed her face with its gentle fingers. She’d mistaken Brett for a friend. She’d liked and trusted him, and believed they had something in common and would have a link for the rest of their lives, but he had callously left her and her baby todie. He’d have had the deaths of two people on his hands had Gabe not found her in time.
As she sank deeper into the pillows, Quinn wondered if the propensity for violence ran in families. Sybil had shown no remorse after shooting Clara and Madeline. She had been cool and matter-of-fact when she spoke to Joe about the disposal of their remains. Seeing Clara and Madeline as a threat, she had felt justified in doing whatever was necessary to protect her interests. Was that how Brett saw Quinn, as a hindrance to be disposed of? They’d spent hours together walking, talking, and exchanging ideas and stories of their lives. Did he not see her as a human being, a person whose life mattered? Was she nothing more to him than an obstacle to his future? And what sort of future would he have now?
Quinn looked up when there was a soft knock on her door. She thought it might be the hospital porter, come to take her tray away, but instead, Seth stepped carefully into the room, his hands held up as if warding off an attack. “Please, give me a couple of minutes, Quinn. I beg you.”
“All right,” she replied, although the last thing she wanted to do was talk to Seth. She didn’t know what to say. Part of her wanted to rage at him, make accusations, and vent her anger, since she couldn’t take it out on Brett. But another part of her felt overwhelming sympathy for him. Brett had been his only child up until a few weeks ago. Brett was his baby, his dream. Perhaps if Brett had assaulted a stranger, or someone who’d physically threatened him, Seth would be able to reason his actions away, but Quinn was Seth’s daughter, the mother-to-be of his first grandchild, and Brett’s sister. No amount of reasoning could justify what Brett had tried to do. No amount of love could blind a parent to such a crime.
Seth pulled up a chair and sat down heavily. He seemed to have aged twenty years since she’d last seen him. There were bags under his eyes and his knuckles were swollen and bruised.
“Quinn, I have no words,” he began. He shook his head in mute denial as his eyes filled with tears. “When I think what might have happened had Gabe not arrived when he did.”
“Seth, it wasn’t your fault,” Quinn replied and meant it. “Brett knew what he was doing. He planned it. He wasn’t sure if he’d go through with it, but the intent was there all along.”
“He regrets it deeply.”
Quinn pinned Seth with her unyielding gaze. “If he regretted it, he would have come back and let me out. He left me there, and I nearly lost my baby.”
Seth hung his head, but not before Quinn saw that he was crying. “It’s my fault, Quinn. I was so excited to have found you at this stage of my life. I wouldn’t shut up about you. I should have been more sensitive to Brett’s feelings and reassured him that my relationship with him wouldn’t change, but I was blind to what he was going through.”
Quinn regarded Seth carefully. He clearly knew nothing of Brett’s gift and didn’t understand the real reason for his actions. Of course, money was part of it, but Brett might not have gone so far had he not been threatened with exposure. He couldn’t bear for people to know he had Negro blood or reconcile himself to that part of his heritage. Perhaps Brett identified with White Supremacist views, or maybe he was just a raging racist, but whatever his reasons, he couldn’t allow the truth to come out.
She opened her mouth to explain the situation to Seth but changed her mind. He was devastated, and she had no wish to add to his misery by telling him he was descended from a young girl of mixed blood who’d been a product of incest, and the ancestor he admired had committed murder and disposed of her victims in cold blood. Not to mention that both his son and daughter possessed a psychic ability he knew nothing about.
“Seth, you love Brett and you want to find an excuse for what he’s done, but there is no excuse.”
“Is there anything I can do?” Seth asked, his eyes pleading with Quinn for forgiveness.
“You can give me time.”
“Of course. I understand. You can call me day or night if you want to talk. Or send me a text or an email if you are not ready for personal contact,” he added.
“I willin time.”
Seth got to his feet, kissed Quinn’s forehead, and left the room. He looked like a broken man.
FIFTY-ONE
“Gabe, tell me what happened,” Quinn said when he came back a short while later. Through the open door of her room, they could see Emma at the nurses’ station, showing off her new doll, which she’d named Dora. The two nurses on duty were charmed by Emma’s Scottish accent and kept asking her questions that Emma was more than happy to answer. She had a few questions of her own, specifically about how far it was to Disney World and if she could walk there from New Orleans.
“Are you sure you want to hear it, love?” Gabe asked. “It will only upset you.”
Quinn shook her head. “It won’t. I want to know how you found me.”
“All right, but first, I want you to drink this apple juice.” He held up a cup. “You’re not consuming enough fluids.”
“Oh, so you’ve joined the ranks of medical professionals now, Dr. Russell?”
Gabe raised one eyebrow in a silent rebuke, making Quinn laugh.
