Page 24 of Run

My blood chilled, a sense of disbelief coming over me. While Vincent might still care for me, while he might have even wanted me back, his pride wouldn’t have allowed him to come after me. Not unless there was a very good, very bad, reason.

“When?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper as I saved my strength to accept the blow that would be his answer.

“More than five years ago,” he said.

His voice was soft, and I struggled to process what he said.

My mother had been dead for more than five years, and this was the first I was hearing about it.

“Did any of you even look for me?” I asked.

He shook his head, and in that moment my heart broke.

I had run, spent every moment, every dime, every breath to keep myself from being found when no one had been looking for me. I’d spent all that time and energy, had spent years alone, lonely, for nothing. I’d thought my escape was my greatest victory, but it had meant nothing.

I felt hollow inside, and between the heartbreak of hearing about my mother, the foolishness of what I had done for all those years, I could hardly keep myself upright. I began to sway on my feet.

His arms were around me in an instant, holding me up.

I wanted to fight against his hold, but even more I needed his support. So I let my husband hold me as the tears streamed down my face.