Brad didn’t argue. Instead, he offered to follow her to drop off her rental car, then drive her to her mom’s. Sienna planned on using her mother’s vehicle until she found her own place and bought one for herself. According to Brad, it wouldn’t be a problem—her mom rarely left the house.
Now they rode in silence. Not an uncomfortable one, more that of two people lost in their own thoughts. Hers were on seeing her mother for the first time since the funeral. She wished she could convince herself otherwise, but she was anxious. And wrestling with doubt.
The things Brad said about her mother’s state of mind, how news of the murder investigation being reopened had sent her on a downward spiral, made her wonder if she had made the right decision. She’d been away from her mother’s chaos for ten years. Maybe the time away had blurred her memories? Made the idea of dealing with her mom’s mental illness easier than it was going to be?
Sienna turned her face toward the side window, watching Tranquility Bluffs slip past her without really seeing it.
“You having second thoughts?”
“No,” she lied, glancing back at her brother. “Just wondering how she’s going to react.”
“Your guess is as good as mine. But I’m leaning toward meltdown.”
“Thanks.”
“Just being real, sis.”
He turned onto Winter Lane, and Sienna released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She’d grown up on this tree-lined street, with its wide sidewalk and deep front yards.
She caught sight of her childhood home, a large redbrick colonial with a sweeping front porch and a circular drive. He turned in, rolled to a stop, and cut the engine.
He met her eyes. She saw sympathy in his. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
They climbed out of the car and started up the wide brick walkway. She noticed that all the front drapes were drawn and the Christmas wreath still hung on the door, battered and sad.
She rang the bell. After a few moments, she heard a shuffling from the other side of the door.
“Who’s there?”
“Viv, it’s Bradley.”
“Who else is with you? Is it Liz?”
“No, Mom, it’s me. Sienna.”
A full ten seconds of silence followed, then the drape over the sidelight moved. Her mother peered out.
Sienna lifted a hand in greeting, and the drape fell back into place. A moment later the door opened and her mother waved them in. “Quickly.”
As they crossed the threshold, her mother grabbed the door, peered outside, then shut it, twisting the deadbolt lock.
She looked at Sienna, eyes wide. “It is you.”
“Hi, Mom.”
“I thought it was a trick.”
“No trick.” Sienna hugged her mother tightly. She felt so thin. “It’s good to see you, Mom.”
Her mother clung to her. “My beautiful girl’s home. How I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.”
Her mother released her and held her at arm’s length, studying her. It was like looking in a mirror, Sienna thought. One that bent time—herself thirty years from now.
“You shouldn’t have come here. I warned you, it’s—”
“Mom,” she said evenly, “this is my home. I wanted to be near you.” She looked at her brother. “And Brad.”
“Sweetheart.” She tightened her grip on Sienna’s shoulders, something dark and frightened creeping into her eyes. “It’s not safe here.”
“It’s as safe here as it is in London.” She covered her mom’s hands with her own. “I’m staying.”
Her mother’s eyes widened. “They found you, didn’t they? They discovered you were in London?”
She had wondered what the reality of living near her mom would be—this was it. Day in and out.
Sienna wanted to cry. The way she would when she was young and her mom talked like this. Because she had known, even when she was small, that something wasn’t right with her mother.
She remembered when she’d been old enough to verbalize what she felt, and asked her father. She had to give him credit—he’d been honest with her. In his deep, warm voice, he’d explained that Mommy was sick, and because of that sometimes she said things that weren’t right or didn’t make sense. He made Sienna promise to come to him with everything, and in return, he promised her he would always tell her the truth.
“Nobody found me,” Sienna said softly but firmly, “and nobody’s after me. I just wanted to come home.”
Sienna held her breath. Her mother blinked. Once. Twice. She did this, like a gambler’s tell. A visual clue—not to what she was thinking, but that she was processing.
“For how long?” she asked.
“Maybe forever. And until I find my own place, I thought I’d stay here, with you. Would that be okay?”
She blinked again, then nodded and dropped her arms, wincing as she did. “We’ll make this work. It’ll be like old times.”
Sienna smiled. “I think so, too.”
“If I’d known you were coming, I would have cleaned up.” She looked pointedly at Brad. “You know I hate anyone seeing me look this way.”
“She wanted to surprise you,” Brad said, turning back to the door. “How about I get your bags?”
“I’ll help.”
He brushed Sienna off. “You visit with your mom. Viv, where should I put the suitcases?”
“In her old room, of course.”
“Right,” he agreed, winking at Sienna. “What was I thinking?”
“Thank you, Bradley,” her mother said. “Come in, sweetheart. You’ve been away so long. And I want to hear all about your trip home. We’ll have cookies and milk. Like we used to.”
“I don’t know about the cookies or milk, but I’d love a big glass of water.”
Her mother nodded and Sienna followed her to the kitchen. The last time she’d been home was for her father’s funeral, five years ago. She and Mimi had flown in, then out a couple days later. They’d stayed at the house, and she remembered it looking the same as always.
What a difference the last five years had made.
It was as dark as a tomb, with the drapes drawn at every window. And it smelled stale, as if it had been closed up for a very long time. What had once been impeccably decorated and immaculately kept was now dated, dusty, and frayed at the edges.
Her dad would be devastated to see the place this way. He’d been so proud of his home and family. He’d worked hard to fill it with love. And normalcy, she thought. He’d worked to give both her and Brad as normal a childhood as possible.
Her mother looked back at her. “What’s wrong?”
“Just thinking about Dad. I miss him.”
“I do, too.”
“It’s so dark in here, it’s depressing. Do you mind if I open the drapes?”
“I’d rather you didn’t. I don’t like people looking in.”
Her mother’s reasoning should startle her, Sienna thought. Sadly, it didn’t. She decided to start small, the way her dad used to. “How about just one window? It would make me feel so much better.”