Chuck felt Sarah's grip tighten around his wrist, and heard her suck a long breath in, as if calming herself. The woman had stopped a few feet in front of Chuck, her tears wet in her eyes, but no longer falling freely down her cheeks. Chuck had no idea what the woman was talking about, nor why Sarah was standing silently behind him. He did know, however, that for the first time he was put in a position of protecting Sarah. He instinctively stood up straighter and stepped fully in front of her.
The woman tentatively reached her hand towards Sarah. "Suse?"
Chuck cleared his throat, and tried to sound as authoritative as possible. "Sorry, Ma'am, but you've got the wrong person."
He turned quickly towards Sarah to lead her away. For the first time, he saw Sarah's face. All of the color had drained from it, and her glassy eyes were locked on the woman's. Chuck tried to catch her gaze so that she could give him some sort of signal about what to do, but she was ignoring him.
The woman didn't seem to have even heard Chuck. "Susannah, its me, Emily." Her voice cracked, and she had a desperate look in her eyes.
Sarah finally seemed to snap out of her daze. She stepped forward, glancing quickly at Chuck. "I'm sorry, my name is Sarah. You must have me confused with someone else."
Sarah's tone was polite, but her voice shocked Chuck--she had seamlessly developed an Australian accent. Chuck felt like he had been kicked in the gut. Just a few moments ago, they were a normal couple, playing carnival games and taking goofy pictures. The ease with which she slipped into another identity scared Chuck more than whatever governmental secret this woman was the key to—how could he ever know who she really was, if she could turn into a new person like the flip of a switch?
"Sarah?" Emily's voice trembled. Sarah was standing tall, with a determined look in her eye.
"It's just that. . . you just look so much like her." Emily could not continue. She raised her hands over her eyes, and started to quietly weep.
Chuck had no idea what to do, and stood staring at her for a moment. Sarah's unusual reaction to Emily had surprised him so much that it had taken him a few minutes to process what was going on. For the first time, he realized that Emily might not have anything to do with a government mission. His thoughts were too jumbled to make much sense of anything else at the moment. For now, a woman was standing in front of him, and was falling apart before his very eyes. It didn't seem very kind to just stand there and just stare at her.
It became obvious that that was exactly what Sarah was planning on doing. She seemed paralyzed, unable to move on or to comfort the woman. Chuck couldn't stand their inaction any longer.
"Its okay," he said, gently patting her on the shoulder. "There, there." He immediately felt like an idiot. Did anyone actually say "there, there"? How was that at all helpful? He looked at Sarah again for help, but her eyes were focused on Emily. He couldn't read her expression, but he had become very accustomed to that feeling. He turned back to Emily, feeling foolish as he rubbed the stranger's back.
He got out another weak "its alright," before she turned towards him and started crying into his sweater. A moment later, Emily seemed to have regained some of her composure.
"I am so sorry," she said, her voice still shaking with tears, as she pulled away from Chuck. "This is just so embarrassing. Its just that she looks so much like Susannah." Emily turned back towards Sarah, and was again at a loss for words. She brought a trembling hand to her mouth. "Oh my god, I'm going to be sick."
Chuck immediately sprung into action, quickly leading her to the side of the pier, where she bent over the rail and began retching. He stood helplessly next to her unsure of what to do next, when he was surprised by Sarah's presence on the other side of Emily. She was leaning towards Emily, gently rubbing her back, but she was looking at Chuck, trying to communicate something unknown with her eyes. Chuck fished some tissues from his jacket pocket, and handed them to Emily wordlessly.
A moment later, Emily stood up. She was still slightly shaky on her feet, but some color had retuned to her face. Chuck looked beyond the woman to Sarah, who was no longer patting Emily's back, but gripping the pier tightly and staring out to the ocean. Emily was looking out towards the sea as well, and as she dried her tears with the tissue, Chuck was suddenly struck by her appearance. He had been too confused to notice it earlier, but as they stood side by side, the resemblance between the two women was unmistakable. Emily was about five inches shorter than Sarah with a larger build, but their profiles were identical. Emily's hair was dark, but her teary blue eyes matched Sarah's. Sarah didn't know Emily from a previous mission. Sarah knew Emily from Sarah's previous life.
He now understood what Sarah had tried to communicate to him with her eyes--she needed to maintain her cover. What he couldn't understand, however, was how she could look at someone she knew and loved in so much pain, and lie straight to her face.
Chuck's thoughts were interrupted by Emily's profuse apologies. She was obviously embarrassed by her actions.
"Don't even think about it," Chuck said. He didn't know what to do, and Sarah offered no guidance. She was still standing motionless by the side of the pier. He decided that Emily was in no shape to be left alone, so he gently led her to a nearby bench and sat down next to her. "I'm Chuck," he said with a smile, shaking her hand, "and this is Sarah." Chuck pointed to Sarah, who was standing off to the side of the pier. As soon as he said it, he realized that, by buying into Sarah's cover, he was joining her in her lie. He felt horrible lying to Emily, who looked so devastated, and who so closely resembled the woman that he loved. He thought that he knew Sarah well enough to know that she would never intentionally hurt someone without reason, so he decided to just trust her judgment.
"I'm Emily," she said, returning Chuck's smile, and glancing towards Sarah. The sight of the blonde seemed to unnerve her, so she turned towards Chuck again. "I'm just so mortified . . . I'm not normally the type of person who freaks out on two strangers," she said, forcing a weak smile onto her face. "I feel like I need to explain myself."
"No explanation needed, as long as you're okay," Chuck said, trying to sound comforting. He looked over Emily's head at Sarah. She looked calm, but recognized a bit of panic behind her eyes. As much as he wanted to hear what Emily had to say, he could tell that Sarah did not want him to hear it.
"No, I need to . . . I need to explain myself." Her words tumbled quickly out of her mouth. Chuck tried to protest, but she continued. "I'm not normally like this. I'm just here for a conference, and I've never been to California. I thought I'd see the sights, so I came out here. And then I saw her . . . Sarah," Emily gestured towards Sarah without looking at her. "And everything just came flooding back to me. It was like seeing a ghost. My cousin—Susannah—she's been gone for five years. They could have been twins."
Emily's voice haltered, and she paused as she wiped new tears from her eyes. Chuck took a moment to look at Sarah. She had moved closer to the bench, but she still stood rigidly to the side.
"You always think that when you lose someone, you would give anything to see that person again, just for a moment. And as crazy as it seems, I thought, just for a second, that someone had been listening, and that was my moment. I know it was insane, but sometimes grief drives you crazy, you know? But it wasn't Susannah, and it felt like losing her all over again." Emily took a deep breath, obviously overwhelmed by the words falling out of her mouth.
Chuck offered her his last tissue, and looked up at Sarah. She finally met his gaze, and he was surprised to see that her eyes were wet with tears. As soon as their eyes met, he knew that his suspicion was correct. He hoped she understood that he was just trying to get everyone out of the situation with as little pain as possible. Sarah seemed to resign herself to what was happening, and she gave Chuck a small nod with her head as she sat down on the other side of Emily.
The woman flinched slightly when Sarah sat down next to her. The reaction obviously caused Sarah great grief. She mindlessly ran her fingers through her hair and leaned back on the bench so that Emily could not see her pained face as Emily continued.
"I know I'm not making any sense, I know I'm babbling, its something I do whenever I get nervous. Susannah used to always call me a motor-mouth. Not her, though. She was always quiet, but when she said something, everyone listened, you know? I say whatever comes to my mind, but she . . . she was different."
Emily sighed again, and continued. "Susannah was my cousin, but I always thought of her as a sister. We grew up three houses down from each other, and there wasn't a day that went by that she and her little brother Nate weren't over at my house, shooting hoops in the driveway or pigging out the in kitchen. They practically lived with us. She didn't have it easy, living with her family. Her mom died when she was ten, and her dad . . . wasn't a very good father. They struggled a lot. But you would never know it by looking at her. She was the type of person who could do anything. She volunteered as a pee-wee hockey coach, and she made all-state in hockey and volleyball. She was the year above me, and she helped me with my homework all the time. She was so smart, you wouldn't believe it." Emily grabbed Chuck's hands, as if trying to will him into understanding how special she had been.
"I bet she was," was all Chuck could get out. He heard the emotion in his voice, and found he couldn't say anything more.
"She was the first one in our family to go to college. Georgetown! We were so proud of her, even her dad. She majored in International Studies. Can you believe it? I'd never even been out of Wisconsin, and she was going to travel the world. I missed her so much when she was at school so far away. I lived at home and went to UW-Green Bay, but whenever she came back during breaks, it was just like old times. We would go to Packers games, the movies, and sometimes we would just drive around and talk about everything—guys, our futures, politics. Everything. But the last time she came home, right before she was supposed to graduate . . . I don't know, its like she knew something was going to happen to her."
Chuck just nodded. The flood of information was overwhelming. He thought he had wanted to know everything, but instead, he wanted to beg Emily to stop. He was sure that the pain he heard in Emily's voice was etched on Sarah's face, but he didn't have the courage to look at her. He couldn't stand the thought of Sarah in pain, but he was sure that deep down, Sarah wanted to hear Emily's story. Otherwise, she would have stopped her by now. So instead, he squeezed Emily's hands, comforting her while desperately wishing he could comfort the other woman on the bench.
Emily continued: "I mean, looking back at it, she was just acting really strange. We had a real heart-to-heart. She asked me to watch over Nate. I thought it was because she was moving to D.C. permanently, or maybe because he had started hanging out with some real losers, but . . . I don't know, its like she had a premonition or something. She even tried to patch things up with her dad. She told me about it the night before she went missing. She never cried or anything, but I could tell that she was upset. They had gotten into a fight, and I'll never forget what she said. She said, 'It was my last chance.' I told her it wasn't her last chance, that he could get sober and they could work things out. She just looked so sad, and gave me a hug. That was it. I never saw her again. I don't know why I didn't sense right then and there that something was wrong. I'll just never forgive myself for not asking her what she meant."
"You can't blame yourself." Both Chuck and Emily were startled by Sarah's soft voice. Chuck looked over Emily's head, trying to will her to look at him. If she would just meet his eyes, perhaps she wouldn't feel so alone while hearing all of this, but she was fixated on Emily.
"I know, its just, if I had asked, maybe Susannah would still be alive, you know? Or, at least, she could've told me something, given me some clue that would have helped the police. The worst thing is not knowing. If I knew who, or why, maybe I could move forward. I mean, we don't even know for sure . . ." Emily's voice cracked. "We never found her body. We didn't even have a funeral until a month later. If I knew for sure that she was dead, maybe I wouldn't be acting so crazy, thinking that I saw her on a pier in L.A." She gave a small, bitter laugh.
"You aren't acting crazy." Chuck didn't know what to say. "Maybe you're right, maybe she is out there, somewhere, and she wishes she could see you but she can't for some reason." He hoped the thought would provide Emily with comfort, and would communicate to Sarah that he understood her pain.
Emily gave him a grateful smile, and he was struck again at her resemblance to Sarah. "I really wish I could believe that. But the police were certain she was killed. Her . . . blood," Emily paused again, gathering her strength. "It was all over his truck."
"Whose truck?" Sarah's voice was still soft, but it had a sudden urgent edge to it. Her expression had changed from one of pain to one of fear.
"Her dad's. I never believed it. I mean, he was a drunk, but he wasn't violent. The police, though, they pegged him from the beginning. Of course they would, I mean, they had had just had a fight, and he was too drunk to remember anything from that night. They couldn't prove anything, so in the end they had to let him go. The damage was done, though. Everyone still believes he did it, even in the family. It ruined him. To lose his daughter, then to have the whole town think he did it? He never recovered. He just sat in his house and drank. It finally killed him last year."
At Emily's last words, a small cry escaped Sarah's lips. Chuck immediately looked at her, and the shocked expression on her face, along with the fresh tears falling from her eyes told him that this part of Emily's story was new to her. Emily was blowing her nose, and did not notice as Sarah leaned back and pushed the palms of her hands against her wet eyes.
She had had enough. Chuck didn't want her to hear anything more, and he couldn't let Emily see Sarah's emotional reaction to the news. He quickly stood up, still holding Emily's hands. He put his arm around her short shoulders, and led her away from the bench.
"I'm so sorry about your cousin, Emily. But I'm sure she is in a better place right now. All you can do is just keep her memory alive." He was just repeating every stock phrase he had heard at his father's funeral years earlier.
"Thank you for being so nice to me," she said, looking up into Chuck's eyes. "I haven't talked about Susannah in a long time. It hurts, but you're right, I have to keep her memory alive."
She suddenly wrapped her arms around Chuck, and he returned the warm hug. "Thank you again," she said, and looked back towards Sarah, who was still sitting on the bench. "And thank your girlfriend for me. Let her know I'm sorry if I upset her." She gave one last look back towards Sarah, and waved goodbye to Chuck. A moment later, she had disappeared into the crowd on the pier.
As soon as she was gone, Chuck rushed back to Sarah. He fell to his knees, and wrapped his arms around her. In contrast to the warm hug he had just received from her cousin, Sarah did not respond to his embrace. She simply sat there until Chuck released her and moved next to her on the bench.
They sat in silence for a moment, until Chuck couldn't stand it. "Sarah, I am so sorry, I can't even imagine . . ."
"Chuck, please." Sarah's natural accent had returned, but her voice was cold. It was a tone he recognized from many missions. It was usually reserved for when she was reprimanding Chuck for disobeying her orders.
"Sarah," Chuck began, but he was cut off again.
"I can't talk about this right now. I need to be alone." She wouldn't even look in his direction. She stood up and started walking away with a blank expression on her face.
"No, wait," he said with desperation in his voice, jumping up to grab her hand.
She looked down at his hand, and then finally met his eyes. The blank expression was momentarily replaced with a flash of pain.
"I'm sorry, Chuck. Please just let me leave." She removed her hand from his, and suddenly she was gone, disappearing into the crowd.