Did it finally work?
There, sitting next to her bed, were both of her parents. Her father had his reading glasses on, holding a folded newspaper close to his face. Jenna’s mother was just staring at the television, which was turned on but muted. Jenna blinked her eyes hard a couple of times, just to verify that her parents were really right there with her. Somehow, they were.
Chapter 17
Jenna sat up and looked around the room, trying to correlate being in the strange hotel with her parents there too. Her mother heard her moving around and immediately jumped out of her chair to sit next to Jenna on the edge of her bed. She stroked her daughter’s hair softly, just as she did back when Jenna was a little girl having nightmares, or night terrors, as they used to say. Her father put down his paper and leaned forward in his chair as Jenna spoke.
“Mom?”
“Yes, Jenna. We’re here, honey,” Judy cooed.
“How’d you find me?”
“We’re your parents, Jenna. That’s our job.”
Her mother’s answer didn’t make sense to her, but she didn’t feel like pressing anymore. Jenna was just happy to have her parents with her again, to feel totally protected, to let someone else carry her burden for a little while. Her mother fluffed her pillows and pulled Jenna back to rest her head again. Judy kept stroking her hair, and Jenna didn’t resist. She turned to the side and buried her face in the pillow, lying as still as she could. Tears gently flowed, though Jenna didn’t know if they were sad or happy tears.
For over an hour, no one spoke or even moved much. A million thoughts ran through Jenna’s head, but she just lay there nearly comatose. She couldn’t imagine what her parents were thinking about her. Every time she pictured her father’s disappointed face finding out what his princess had done, she cried more.
She still wasn’t sure if she could trust anyone, but there was no way to find out for sure. And, at this point, she decided it didn’t mean anything. Things couldn’t get any worse for her, and she had no one else in the world anyway. Finally, her father broke the silence. “Are you hungry, Princess?”
“A little.”
He got up and left without saying another word. Jenna wondered if he wasn’t looking for an excuse to leave the room to get away from the awkward tension. Surprisingly, her mother didn’t try to talk to her at all while they were alone together. Jim promptly returned with burgers, fries, and shakes in hand. He certainly knew Jenna.
The thick silence continued as they ate. Jenna didn’t hold back, eating everything and drinking her entire shake. Her stomach hurt, but she didn’t care. The empty calories were just what she needed right then, and she finally felt clear-headed again. They continued sitting together in quiet, barring the occasional car passing on the highway. Judy got up and threw away everyone’s trash, including the mountain of wrappers from her daughter’s evening feast.
“Jenna, if there’s anything you want to talk about, we’re here,” she said softly.
Jenna sat there staring ahead, trying to figure out where to start.
“You can tell us anything, Princess.”
That statement was all it took to trigger a verbal landslide. Jenna told them the truth about the last few weeks, as well as she could remember. She disclosed everything from Vivian’s weird behaviors to how she’d gotten the money she used for the hotel room. Jenna told them about all the places she’d been and people she’d talked to, the party with Vivian, the blood-soaked clothes, the Sub, her questionable mark, the tattoo, Noah, their night together. Her parents sat intently listening, never once interrupting and never changing their facial expressions.
When Jenna was done unloading, she felt a wave of relief, almost euphoria. It was so amazing that she wanted to get out of bed and dance, or jump up and down on the mattress. The high of her confession was like nothing else. She stood up and began pacing wildly to release some of her extra energy. While Jenna was certainly appreciative of her parents letting her unleash all the secrecy and guilt, she was also quickly becoming hyper-aware of their stoic body language.
Are they in shock? Do they hate me now? What are they thinking?
“Well, are you going to say anything?” she blurted out.
“Jenna, your father and I love you very much.”
Jenna felt a big “but” coming. Something didn’t fit with their reactions. For some reason she expected, almost wanted, them to be upset or crying. Anything to show genuine emotions.
Her mother continued, “We just think maybe you’re under too much stress, stretching yourself too thin. Maybe being away on your own was too much for you to handle. Perhaps one more year at home—”
“What? Are you not hearing anything I’m telling you? Crazy stuff has gone down here. It’s not stress. It’s not made up in my mind. Look!”
She lunged at her parents, causing both of them to jump back in defensive poses, alarmed expressions plastered on their faces. Jenna pulled down her waistband to reveal her hip tattoo, still red and tender. They stared at her flesh and then back up at her face.
“Well? Doesn’t this prove what I’ve been telling you?”
“What are we looking at, Princess? Did you draw on yourself?” her father asked timidly.
“No, I didn’t draw on myself! It’s a tattoo! Someone did this to me last night, but I don’t even remember it happening. I’m going crazy!”
A giant teardrop trickled down her mother’s cheek. Her father slowly shook his head back and forth as he got up. He took Jenna in his arms and held her against his body tightly. She began sobbing in a mixture of confusion and frustration, with a little terror.
“What about this?” she asked weakly, holding out her wrist.
“It looks like some kind of rash or scratch. Do you know what you did?” her mother asked.
Jenna was completely devastated. Her world was turned upside down, and she didn’t know what was real or not, in addition to feeling like she couldn’t trust anyone. Her father was still hugging her tightly, swaying a little back and forth. The television was still on with no volume, giving her periodic glimpses of the screen. A newsflash came on, and she instantly pulled away from her father’s grip.
She grabbed the remote and turned the volume up just in time to hear the story about the attack. All three focused their attention on the television. Across the top of the screen was a headline that read “MANHUNT UNDERWAY FOR CAMPUS KILLER.” They were still running the grainy surveillance video from earlier, with an enhanced still image of the attacker. Viewers were being asked to call a hotline with any tips in connection with the crimes.
She turned the volume back down and turned to face her parents. As with her earlier admission, they didn’t have any immediate reaction to what they heard. Jenna shrugged dramatically, as if to elicit a specific response from them. Her irritation was palpable, but they weren’t sure what she wanted. They still wouldn’t say anything. Instead, her mother offered a confused, sad look before nodding back at the television.
The video looped again, but this time something caught her eye. Everything she was seeing looked completely different. It was like she was watching it for the very first time. The perpetrator’s image again froze on the screen.
But this was a completely different person than Jenna had seen in the hundred times she’d already watched it. In fact, the attacker looked nothing like Jenna, or any young person, for that matter. The image showed a well-disguised man or woman. Whoever it was, this person was much taller than Jenna, with better posture. It definitely wasn’t her or Vivian.
Many possibilities rushed through her head, but the main one that surfaced was that she’d gone completely mad. She started sobbing hysterically. Jenna had no idea how one person could produce so many tears in such a short amount of time.
Not knowing what else to do, she offered a weak apology for her behavior. She didn’t even know what she was supposed to be sorry for, but it seemed like the right thing to do at the time. She stumbled back and fell ont
o the bed. Her head was still spinning, trying to process everything that had happened.
Neither of her parents rushed to her side, electing to give her space to breathe and gather herself instead. Now everything seemed to be more of a dream or a nightmare. Whatever the case, Jenna had no idea how much of her life she’d imagined over the last few weeks, or possibly ever.
Did I imagine Noah?
Her parents finally sat down on the bed by her, one on each side. The look of concern on their faces caused Jenna to panic again. She flashed back to the time she broke her arm when she was a little girl, maybe nine or ten years old. Jenna vividly recalled how they’d both hovered over her, with similar expressions of sheer horror. She felt pure guilt for putting them through all these wild emotional roller coaster events over the years.
“Jenna, honey. Can you tell us what you’ve had to eat and drink lately? Did you take any type of medication, or—”
“Oh my gosh! Do you think I did drugs?”
“Now, calm down, Princess. Your mother and I are worried about you right now, that’s all.”
“Jenna, no one’s accusing you of anything. We’re just trying to figure out what happened so we know how to help you. I was asking if it’s possible that someone, maybe your roommate or your boyfriend, slipped something into your drink.”
“Not that I’m aware of, but I honestly don’t feel like I’m the most reliable source right now. I may legitimately be mentally unstable.”
Jenna sighed loudly. Her parents excused themselves to step outside for a few minutes, and Jenna lay there fuming, angry at herself for not feeling more in control. She could hear them outside, speaking in low voices, but she had absolutely no inclination to try to hear what they were saying. She felt completely disconnected from her body.
Then her parents came back into the room with her, quietly shutting the door behind them. She couldn’t tell if they were frightened of something outside, or if it was what was inside the room that was scaring them. Her father began gathering Jenna’s things and tucking them into the bag she’d brought, while her mother rummaged through her own purse. She retrieved a small book that appeared to have some handwritten stuff in it, and she flipped through it with a real sense of urgency.
Her mother held up her phone and dialed a number, presumably a contact from her little notebook. Then she walked away from Jenna and her father, shutting herself in the bathroom for her conversation. Jenna could hear her speaking to someone; it sounded like she was making a doctor’s appointment. Then her mother abruptly ended her call and burst back into the room.
“We should leave soon,” Judy announced.
“Where are we going, though?” Jenna asked.
“Don’t worry about anything, honey. We’re going to take care of you, take care of everything. It’s all going to be just fine.”
*****
They loaded into her parents’ car, parked just in front of the room where Jenna had spent the night. Her father started the engine and adjusted the air conditioning. Then he jumped out and walked to the office with her room key. After a few minutes he returned to the driver’s seat, and they were off.
Her father turned the radio on, finding a jazz station, and he set the volume low. Along the way, Jenna asked again where they were going. Her mother seemed slightly annoyed with Jenna’s persistence, but eventually gave in to answer her.
“It’s just a place that allows people to get their minds in the right place. They can help you get balanced and find yourself again. What you need right now is an education in coping skills.”
All that sounded like exactly what Jenna needed.
Maybe it’s a spa.
She giggled aloud at her own thoughts, and her parents glanced back at her with nervous smiles. They drove for what felt like hours to Jenna, but she had no real sense of time anymore and no way to check without bothering her parents more. Her mind frantically looped the events of her life since her first day of college. She played these memories like a movie that she could rewind or pause for closer inspection. But after a while, she began to feel exhausted from the constant self-examination.
Jenna felt the car come to a stop and looked up to see a small brick building with glass windows across the front side. There were no signs or markings to indicate where they were, but it seemed to be their final destination. Her parents unbuckled their seat belts, so she followed suit. Her mother checked her lipstick and hair in a hand mirror while Jenna and her father waited, just like the old days. Once her mother was satisfied with her appearance, she signaled by reaching for her door handle.
Jenna and her father followed her out of the car. As they approached the front door together, the reflection of the car in the glass retriggered the mind movie she’d been playing on the long ride. She visualized the car sitting there in front of her hotel room earlier that morning.
They went inside and sat down while Jenna’s mother signed in for their appointment. When she finished, she came over and sat by them. Jim glanced through a Men’s Health magazine while Judy focused on Jenna.
“Mom, Dad, I want to thank you both for helping me. You’re the best parents in the whole world, and I’m sorry for putting you through all this.”
Jim and Judy smiled and hugged her from each side.
“It’s just so lucky you found me. How did you manage?”
“I used your phone to track your location, honey.”
Jenna felt sick inside.
Chapter 18
Within minutes, a woman appeared at the arched opening to an area behind the receptionist and called Jenna’s name. It seemed like overkill to her, as they were the only ones in the waiting room. She stifled her laughter.
The family followed the woman down a long sterile hallway. Jenna couldn’t guess how old this woman was, but her hair and fashion choice seemed to be from decades earlier. She walked slowly, almost leisurely, which would have been ideal for a spa.
But Jenna knew this wasn’t a spa.
After passing many doors with numbers on them, the woman stopped and opened one of them. She stood stiffly and motioned for Jenna and her parents to go inside. The room was an average medical exam room, with the patient table and a couple of chairs.
Jenna noticed that the woman didn’t look like a nurse, but assumed she must have been. She didn’t have a medical mark, though nurses rarely did. The woman left the room, shutting the door behind her, without asking any questions or filling out any papers.
Shortly, a round sweaty man with a red face entered the room and introduced himself as Dr. Dawson. Jenna’s parents shook his hand before he turned his attention to her. She sat on the exam table, wiggling her feet, staring at the floor, unsure what to say to him.
Dr. Dawson didn’t address her directly, choosing to stare at her instead. Then he asked her parents to speak with him in another room. They left together, shutting the door gently behind them. Jenna could hear her mother’s shoes clicking down the hallway, in the direction of the front door.
That was the craziest exam ever.
There were no windows in the exam room, but Jenna could still hear birds chirping outside. It didn’t take long for her to get too impatient sitting alone in this box of a room. She was afraid of what tests they might put her through, or where she could end up if they judged her to be clinically insane.
Quick thinking led her to get up and head back toward the front, walking lightly. She found the receptionist and asked for directions to the restroom, a convenient excuse in case it mattered. On the way down the side hall where the woman had pointed her, she could hear people talking in one of the rooms.
It sounded like her mother and a man, probably that doctor. A quick check of her surroundings confirmed that she was still alone in the hallway. Jenna slowly scooted closer to the door, hugging the wall to avoid them seeing her feet under the doorway.
Jenna tried to maintain a casual pose against the wall, and thought through potential explanations in case someone was to come a
round the corner and find her there eavesdropping. Before she could think of anything good, she heard her mother saying Jenna’s name. Her mother spoke softly, like she was telling a secret, yet every word was crystal clear out in the hallway. Jenna’s ears locked onto their conversation.
“Yes, she knows that we adopted her as a young child, but she believes that her parents were killed in a car accident and they had no other relatives,” Judy said.
“She doesn’t remember what really happened?” the man’s voice asked.
“No, she was too young when the Program took her. Sometimes she’s had little episodes where she remembers something about her biological parents, but never anything of significance. The Program taught her to clear her mind when this happens, which she attributes to her father teaching her to meditate whenever she feels anxious.”
What program? Took me?
“Do you have records of her original mark?” he asked.
“No. We didn’t want any evidence, so we made sure it was all destroyed,” Judy answered.
“And she doesn’t have any clue? How were you able to keep it from her?”
“We’ve followed the Program’s recommendations to a tee. We’ve given her a very structured life, everything we could do to keep her on the path of an authentic medical mark.”
Her mother’s tone was sincere, but the statements sounded partly defensive and hinted at regret. Jenna felt annoyed that her mother was speaking about taking care of her as if it was a rigorous chore. After everything else, she never would have expected to hear this stuff coming out of her mother’s mouth. She’d always thought she was really loved, but it was becoming clear that it was likely one big lie.
“I see. What about records for her birth parents?” the man asked.
Jim answered, “We have all those hidden away. Everything’s at home in our safe.”
Marked Page 17
