Returning to the hospital the next day was nowhere near as daunting as Sara had expected. The guard at the gate had merely glanced at her pass and waved them through without a word. They made their way directly to Laura's home without announcing their arrival to Mary.
Sara had attached herself to the mystery of the photograph. She realised it was probably a slightly unhealthy way to deal with her grief but there was something about the little girl that intrigued her. There were no professional photographs of Sara, that much she was sure of. Her parents had taken a laid back approach to parenting that basically meant that the kids were left to their own devices 90% of the time. Any photographs that existed of Sara and her brother were family snapshots from major events; Christmas, Birthdays etc. it did raise the question of who this child was and what she meant to her mother. Further digging in her mother's things revealed another bundle of letters from Sandra; at least one a year until the early nineties judging by the dates. She also found an old photo of her mother and a blonde woman, young and smiling on a golden sandy beach with a baby at their feet. The inscription on the back telling her that the toddler with the dark curls was her and the blonde woman was Sandra.
Sara and Grissom took the short walk up to the main hospital side by side. Mary was in her office furiously scribbling on some paperwork when Sara cautiously knocked on the door and gave a small smile.
"Miss sidle! I haven't emptied your mother's locker yet, forgive me. It's been a busy day"
She steered them both inside and they took their position in the leather chairs across from her desk.
"There's no real hurry. I actually wanted to ask you about visitors" Sara ventured, not sure how forthcoming the woman was going to be with the information.
"Visitors? Our patients don't often get many social visits"
Sara nodded her understanding but pressed on regardless.
"Do you know of a woman named Sandra Clark visiting my mother? Or maybe an Amy Clark?"
Mary's brow furrowed but she was already shaking her head.
"Not that I can recall but I can have the records checked if it's important?"
Sara exchanged a glance with Grissom as though seeking his permission to proceed. He responded with a barely there shrug. He knew that once something got under her skin there was nothing to be done but go along with it.
"You keep record of all the visits?" Sara proceeded, determined to make some headway on this mystery.
"Of course. There's a process involved. You must remember, all visitors must be logged in and approved. 2 forms of identification must be given, one with a photograph"
Sara did remember. She had commented that it was easier to get into a prison than here to the guard but he hadn't seemed to find it as funny as she did.
"Do you think I'd be able to take a look at my mother's visitor log?"
"Miss Sidle…. We don't normally give out that information. It's private…" Mary's eyes burned into her but she could always tell when a person was going to cooperate. They had a certain aura around them.
"I understand, I just… I have no idea who should be at her funeral and she seemed to have a lot of contact with this Sandra….the visitors log could really help me out with the arrangements"
Mary hesitated as she held Sara's eye, clicking her tongue off her teeth. Her hands hovered over the keyboard of her computer and Sara knew even before she spoke that she was going to relent. She raised her eyebrows and pasted on her very best pleading expression as Mary sighed and pressed some buttons making the printer whirr to life.
"This isn't normally how we do things Ms Sidle… but I am trusting your integrity in this instance. This record never leaves this office, understood?"
She sent Sara a stern look as she passed her the bundle of papers and moved to the door.
"Understood" Sara nodded "thank you"
"I'll be back in half an hour" she declared, closing the door behind her.
Sara exhaled all the tension in her body escaping as she peered at the information in her hand. Her mother mostly took professional visits; therapists, doctors and Samaritans. In recent years she had a number of visits from a priest named Father Debney. Sara took a note to contact him about the funeral.
She sifted through the pages carefully, working backwards and pausing on the record of her visits. A sadness settled over her as she thought about the last time she had seen her mother alive.
Sara's mother had been a resident in this place for many many years and it made Sara feel a little guilty to know that she had never had a visitor on any of the big holidays. She had spent every Christmas on her own cloaked in the memories of days gone by.
According to the record 'Michael Sidle/James had made a visit in April 2001. The one and only visit from her brother made a frown cross her face as she realised he had changed his last name. He had been 17 when Sara was taken away. Old enough to be considered an adult which left him dealing with a whole lot of different problems than Sara had. She had never seen him again. She never got the chance to ask him if he had tried to fight for her or simply walked away, glad to be free of the burdens of his family.
She wondered what reason he could have for visiting her out of the blue like that, especially considering he didn't visit again. It had been a few visits before Sara could claim to have reached a level of closure with her mother, she could only imagine Michael felt the same. With a sigh she took a note of his new name and the address he had provided but she knew it was probably a long shot given that it had been 11 years ago.
Finally her eyes found the name she had been looking for. Sandra Clark was logged in numerous times right back to the first tentative visits after her admittance. It seemed that Sandra had visited almost once a month until March 1990 when the visits abruptly stopped. The date sparked a memory in her mind as a particularly bad time in her mother's treatment. She had suffered a powerful breakdown that summer. Sara had been at college enjoying her freedom and anonymity. The phone calls had started mildly but quickly escalated to abusive forcing Sara to request that all her mother's calls were restricted and ran through the switch board. It may have been selfish of her to cut off contact in that way when her mother clearly needed her help but at that Stage Sara was fully committed to her studies and fully detached from that dark stage of her life.
Again she took a note of the most recent contact details of Sandra, noting that it was the same one the letters had come from. She held out some hope that Sandra was still there and was free from the nomadic tendencies that she suspected her brother had. There was at least a slim chance that she was still in the same house or at least nearby.
Mary flounced into the room looking harassed and exhausted. Sara slid the bundle of papers across the table with a smile of thanks as Mary sat down.
"I am sorry; it's been very busy around here lately. Must be something in the air" she smiled "or a full moon"
"Well thank you, that really helped" Sara remarked, nodding towards the papers languishing on the desk.
Mary gathered them into her hands, sliding them into her filling cabinet and turning her attention back to them.
"Andrew is clearing out Laura's locker as we speak so it shouldn't be too long"
Sara nodded but her mind was preoccupied with theories on Sandra.
"You worked here in the 90's right?"
Mary was taken aback by the questioning but still managed a cautious nod.
"I started here in November 1986" she said proudly.
"Sandra visited my mother once a month until 1990… are you sure you don't remember anything about her?"
"Miss Sidle, this is a very busy establishment. We have over 60 residents and double that as outpatients… and that was a very long time ago"
"I know…." Sara sighed; feeling a little disheartened "you don't remember anything?"
Mary seemed to retreat inwardly for a few long moments. Sara could almost feel her unlocking long lost memories in her mind. She sent Grissom a nervous sideways glance as he took her hand in his, resting on his leg.
"I don't remember much I'm afraid…" she began "but I do know that the summer of 1990 was horrific for Laura. It had something to do with this woman. She came to visit and they had some kind of an altercation. I remember because we had to remove Laura from the visit and restrain her. She was screaming something about being promised something. It was all quite traumatic"
Sara swallowed the lump in her throat as an image sparked in her mind of her mother restrained to a bed. The unforgiving shackles cutting and burning her skin as she fought furiously against them and awaited sedation. The thought terrified her and she tightened her grip on Grissom's hand. She could see why Mary would remember it so clearly.
"Do you remember what she was promised?"
The words choked in her throat as though they didn't want to be spoken but Mary shook her head sadly as Andrew came into the room with a sealed plastic box. Sara took custody of her mother's belongings and strode out of the hospital with a heavy heart. She rarely felt sympathetic towards her mother; most of her life she blamed her but now that she was being offered an insight into her life she found herself pitying her.
"Should I call a cab?" Grissom asked as they wandered across the grounds towards Laura's home.
"Could we maybe hire a car? Sara suggested, receiving a frown from her husband "I need to visit Sandra, Gil. I need to know…"
Grissom nodded, his hand stroking her arm gently before retrieving his phone as he loitered outside.
Sara started with the books, filling a box for goodwill assuming that her mother wouldn't have many titles she would be interested in. she took the time to fan out the pages of each one before packing it just in case anything was hidden in the pages.
"We get our car in an hour" Grissom smiled with a sigh as he cast his eyes over the scene in front of him. Sara sitting cross legged on the floor surrounded by books in various piles. The strain was beginning to show in her. Her once vibrant and shining eyes were becoming dull and her breath became slow and deliberate. He knew from those signs that she was sinking under the dark sea of her emotions and he knew he had to do all he could to keep her afloat.
"Thank you" she muttered, flicking open another book and fanning the pages. Grissom sunk to the floor beside her, mirroring her position and sliding a pile of books towards him.
"Anything good?" he smiled.
Sara returned his smile as he read the blurb of a particularly steamy covered 'Jackie Collins' novel.
"Not really" she smirked, raising an eyebrow at his unabashed interest in the book in his hands. "Looking for pointers?" she asked, unable to hide her amusement.
"It is important that we never stop learning, Sara" he smiled, placing the book in the goodwill box.
"I don't think there's much these books can teach us Gil" she laughed, fanning out two 'Mills and Boon' novels and placing them in the box.
"I heard these kind of books are making a comeback you know" Grissom quirked a suggestive eyebrow in her direction. "The stigma of reading them is gone now they are in the mainstream"
"Yeah, well… you'll forgive me if I'm not overly keen to read 50 shades anytime soon"
Grissom raised a rather too enthusiastic eyebrow at her making her almost blush as she cleared her throat and turned back to the books.
"Well here's something that doesn't belong" Grissom declared, slipping a well-worn copy of 'Alice in Wonderland' from the shelf.
Sara recognised it immediately, a strange feeling settling over her as she took the book from Grissom's hand,
"This was mine…" she said in a barely audible whisper as she drew her hand over the intricate design on the cover. "I think it was a birthday present. I don't remember…"
She did remember hiding at the back of her closet with the book clutched close to her chest and a flashlight. She would try to drown out the shouting and screaming with her imagination, she would retreat to wonderland with Alice and leave behind all the horrors of this world. Books had been her saviour in those days, the sanctuary she could always count on.
Sara carefully opened the cover, a busy pattern dancing in front of her eyes and making memories wash over her at a bewildering pace; it was strangely comforting to her. On the second page in the top corner her eyes focussed on an inscription she couldn't even remember being there.
"To my little book bug Sara, never stop reading, never lose sight of that wonder and amazement and never stop learning. Someday you are going to know more than any of us
and have the world at your feet. Love from Sandy"
For some reason the heartfelt words pounded in her chest and the realisation that her once most prized possession had been gifted to her by a woman she didn't even remember seemed to steal the air from her lungs. The stagnant swarm of butterflies in her stomach awoke in a flurry and tears stung at her eyes.
"It's from Sandra" she muttered, clutching the book to her chest like a security blanket. "Who is this woman?"