Page 49 of In Her Sights

The assertion crashed through Jenna’s defenses, leaving her momentarily bereft of words. Logic warred with intuition, her analytical mind dissecting Emily’s statement for any hint of deception. Yet something primal, that strange supernatural sense she harbored, screamed the truth of Emily’s words. The world tilted slightly, reality skewing as Jenna grappled with this new certainty.

Another silence settled between them, the air thick with the weight of confessions and the specter of hope. Then Emily’s voice cut through again, soft but laden with genuine regret. “It’s a tragedy, the rift between you and your mother because of Piper.” She paused, looking down for a moment before meeting Jenna’s eyes again. “It truly saddens me.”

The mention of her mother was a catalyst, jolting Jenna from her reverie. Abruptly, she rose to her feet.

“Goodbye, Emily,” Jenna managed to say, her voice strained, before turning on her heel and hastening out of the jail. Once outside, she fumbled with her car keys, then slid into the driver’s seat, the interior of the car a small sanctuary. She closed her eyes, allowing the quiet hum of the engine to ground her back to reality.

After a few moments, Jenna’s breathing calmed, and she opened her eyes. The weight of the conversation with Emily had left her feeling unmoored, but in its wake, a firm resolve took root. It was a decision that had been deferred for far too long, buried under layers of pain and duty, but now it beckoned her clearly. Her hand reached for her phone with a newfound purpose, dialing a number she knew by heart yet rarely called. It felt alien to initiate contact after all this time, yet necessary—like resetting a bone that had healed wrong. She pressed the call button, the dial tone stretching out like a horizon before her.

“Hello?” The voice on the other end was slurred, tinged with the unmistakable edge of inebriation.

“Mom, it’s Jenna,” she said, her voice low and even. There was a pause, a fumbling sound, as though the phone had almost slipped from her mother’s grasp.

“Jenna? What’s… what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Jenna replied, her words deliberate. “I’ve been thinking…we should meet up. Sometime soon.”

There was a pause filled with static and a distant hum that might’ve been laughter or sobs—it was hard to tell. Her mother’s response was a delayed murmur, a half-hearted attempt at sobriety. “Sure, honey. We can do that.”

“Good,” Jenna said, a subtle tremor betraying her apparent composure. “I’ll call you tomorrow to set a time.” She didn’t wait for an answer, ending the call before the silence could stretch into discomfort.

The phone fell from her hand onto the passenger seat, the finality of the moment enveloping her. She sat there, allowing herself to absorb the stillness, the quiet resolution that promised no easy path forward, but a path nonetheless. She had made the call. It was a beginning. And like so many beginnings, she had no idea of what the end might be.

Jenna thought of the other beginnings that still remained open questions.

Was there anything to look forward to with Jake, or should she just give up on that?

When would she find any clues to the one thing she’d never, never give up on—the search for her sister?

And whose troubles would next draw on the skills she’d developed, both in the everyday world and in her lucid dreams?