They stayed at Sandra's until the sun was hanging low in the orange sky. The exhausted woman held Sara in a firm embrace before she left, tears stinging at her eyes and sobs trembling in her chest. Alan walked them to the door, instructing his mother to rest with a stern expression. Sara turned at the doorway to thank him, pulling him into a polite hug.
"Thank you, for letting me see her"
"My mother is very sick Sara; the doctors have given her a little over a month. I'd appreciate it if you let her die in peace now"
With that he closed the door, leaving her standing outside staring at the glass, wondering exactly what just happened. Grissom carefully placed his hands on her shoulders and steered her away from the porch, stepping over the shaggy dog and down the creaky stairs towards their car.
Sara leaned heavily against her door, staring out at the scenery in silence as they drove out of town. Grissom found himself stealing nervous sideways glances in her direction, not knowing what to say to break the silence.
Sandra had had a lot to say; About Laura and about Sara and her brother. She had steered clear of the subject of her father as much as she could but it had genuinely been the most he had ever heard Sara talk about her past. Sandra and Laura had been incredibly close for many years and she had a lot of stories to share. Sara had finally found some of the happy memories she had been craving and had forged a strange bond with Sandra in a short space of time.
Alan, however, seemed to find their presence suspicious and inconvenient. Grissom wasn't sure if that had something to do with Laura or something to do with them but his attitude towards them had been unwelcoming from the start.
Sandra hadn't divulged any further information about Amy, choosing instead to change the subject. Sara brought the image back out of her purse and studied it again. Grissom could see the sadness clouding her eyes as she looked down on her.
"At least you got your answer, right?" he muttered, watching as she traced her fingers across the image in the same way Sandra had earlier.
"Right" she sighed.
It was clear that whatever closure she had been looking for in Sandra's she had not found it.
"So, she's Sandra's daughter" he offered, turning his attention back to the road.
"Apparently"
Her statement hung heavily in the air between them and as much as he wanted to ignore it he knew he couldn't. It burned on his conscience and tasted sour on his tongue.
"What do you mean? 'Apparently?'"
Sara finally turned to look at him, a frown making itself know on her brow. The orange glow of the sun bathed her skin and made flecks of gold and green appear in her eyes.
"It's… nothing" she sighed, stashing the photo in her purse again and gazing out of the window.
It was clear 'nothing' meant something else entirely. With a sigh Grissom pulled off the road onto a patch of sand. The ocean stretched out in front of them, stars were beginning to appear in the deep blue of the sky above the setting sun.
"What is it?" he asked, killing the engine and turning to face her. His hand stroked the smooth skin of her cheek and she closed her eyes and melted against him.
"I just… there's something more to this Gil… I can feel it"
"Sara…"
"I know, I know… 'Follow what can't lie'" she mocked, rolling her eyes.
But Grissom had been following the evidence all the way and had come to the same conclusion as she had; something wasn't quite matching up with this story.
"Well what does the evidence say?" he asked, his steady gaze holding hers.
"What do you mean?" She frowned, taking a deep breath.
"Talk it out with me" he almost whispered.
"Ok…" Sara began, sliding back in her chair and pressing her head against the headrest. "she said she only had one daughter, Alan looked like he had never heard of her, she wouldn't tell me anything about where Amy is now, My mother… clearly cared about this child, and every letter referred to her as 'our angel' there was never any mention of her other children and… she just looked shifty, you know? She looked like she was lying…"
Sara stared straight ahead for a few long moments, wallowing in the silence enveloping them. Her brain was racing, connecting all the dots, analysing all the signs and still coming up with an incomplete picture. With a sigh she turned to face her husband, expecting him to shrug off her theories with simple explanations.
"I agree" he stated, turning to meet her eye. The twilight reflected in his eyes as it closed in around them. A chill snaked its way up her spine and made her shiver.
"So what do we do now?"
Grissom reached into the back seat for his jacket, gently placing it around her shoulders and kissing her forehead softly.
"We look harder" he stated decidedly as he turned the engine back on and pulled away from the shore.
By the time the car pulled into the city Sara was curled up in her chair with his jacket pulled tightly around her shoulders. Her eyelashes fluttered against the porcelain skin of her cheek and he cast his eyes over her as he pulled up outside a small diner. The artificial lights cast their glow across her forcing a frown to furrow on her brow and she prised her eyes open slowly to see him watching her.
"Sorry" she smiled, stretching out her long legs and arching her back. "I guess I was tired"
"I guess so" he nodded. "It's been a long day, I thought we could get some dinner"
He stepped out of the vehicle and waited for her to follow. Night had properly fallen and cloaked the world in its darkness; Sara strained her eyes to find her jacket in the back seat and stumbled across the plastic box Mary had given her earlier. It seemed like that had been so long ago. She raised the box to her hip and slung her jacket over the crook of her arm as she followed Grissom inside the brightly lit diner.
The décor inside was meant to be like a 50's diner. Red and white leather booth's sat on a chequered floor with a juke box against the wall and a long steel bar littered with barstools snaked around the room. Half a Cadillac stuck out of the wall above the doors that led to the bathroom and Grissom disappeared in that direction as she took up position in one of the booths, placing the box on the table in front of her.
A middle aged woman with a blonde beehive sauntered over to her with a look of complete disinterest and took their order on a small yellow pad. When she was gone Sara glanced around the diner nervously. There was one man sitting in a booth in the corner, he wore a beanie hat and had a long scraggily beard. He seemed completely engrossed in the local newspaper, not paying a single iota of attention to her or the waitress. With a deep breath she turned back to the box and unclipped the lid.
The smell of old paper hit her immediately and she pressed her eyes closed as she tried to calm her nerves. She fished out the pile of papers and placed them in front of her, sliding the empty box across the table.
The first few items were pretty self-explanatory, bank statements and medical assessments mixed in with some personal letters that were addressed to her. She could only imagine the contents of the letters if they had chosen not to pass them on. She decided that they should be delved into in an altogether more private place. A diner in the middle of the city was not really the place to read about her mother's tortured mind.
She unfolded a yellowing piece of paper, casting her eyes over her birth certificate sadly. It had proved difficult for her to get a copy of this many years ago; she hadn't had the luxury of a loving family who filed these things away carefully.
With a sigh she placed it aside and unfolded the next paper. Unfamiliar handwriting was scrawled across the top and a small photograph fell out onto the table. Even although she hadn't seen him since she was 9 years old she recognised him. Michael still had the same mess of scruffy dark hair and those deep dark eyes that hid a thousand secrets.
She had never been able to get close to him, even when they were a lot younger he seemed to resent her existence. She envied people who had managed to forge lasting bonds of friendship with their siblings. In the image he was holding a tiny baby in a yellow shawl. Sara turned it over but there was no inscription on the back.
Referring to the letter she discovered that the baby in his arms was his daughter; Jessica Amy James. Her breath caught in her chest as she stared at the tiny child. She didn't even now the girl existed. Checking the date she figured Jessica would be around 12 years old now.
Grissom arrived at the table, casting his eyes across the mass of papers spread over it.
"Are you sure you want to do this here?" he asked carefully.
She nodded and handed him the photograph and letter before pressing on in her search.
"I'm an auntie" she shrugged "apparently"
Grissom's eyes scanned the letter as she unfolded another in the same scrawled handwriting. With every word she read she could feel her heart sinking lower and lower in her chest. Tears stung at her eyes as she placed the letter lightly on the table and took the photograph from Grissom.
"Was an auntie" she whispered "Jessica didn't see her first birthday…. That's why he visited our mom. He lost a child"
The waitress brought over their plates disturbing the heavy silence that had settled between them.
"Sara do you think you should be looking at those now?" Grissom mumbled not wanting to be too confrontational knowing that it would only frustrate Sara being told what she should or shouldn't do.
"I need to..." She replied not meeting his eye. He took a deep breath leaning back in his chair his eyes taking in the dusty parking lot as people moved in and out of the diner on their way home and into disappearances. Taking a sip from his coffee he turned back to see Sara watching him steadily.
"Do you think I shouldn't?" She asked the papers still in her hands. She had not put anything down, questioning not her actions but his suggestion.
"I...know it's a lot of information to process right now, perhaps it would be best to rest...to gather your thoughts...because..." Grissom trailed off his tired blue eyes looking away from his wife as he feared her retaliation knowing she would not spare him from the bitter words on her tongue.
"Because..." She raised an eyebrow at him. "... it'll upset me...you don't want me to be unstable... you're worried that I might actually want a family... that unlike you I care about where I come from as well as where I'm heading?"
"No...No Sara... you misunderstand me..." He sighed once again his eyes focused on his coffee.
"...I do that a lot..." Sara muttered under her breath.
"This is impossible..." Grissom shook his head, turning his attention back to the reason they had stopped here in the first place; food, coffee, fuel.
"Of course..." She gave a small humourless laugh. "It must be really hard for you..."
"Sara… you're being ridiculous" he sighed, sliding the box towards him and placing papers inside it. "We can do this in the morning. It's too much for one day"
Sara could feel anger welling up inside her and seep through her pores. She fixed her eyes on his hands as they casually tossed the letters and documents inside the box with little regard and found her hands tightening around the small bundle in her grasp.
"I'm not a child" she hissed through her teeth, desperately trying to hold back the hateful words poisoning her tongue. She had always been aware of her foul temper and her inability to control it. In recent years she had mellowed, partly due to the fact that her life had settled down and reached a mild plateau. Now she seemed to find ammunition at every turn, emotional trauma did that to her and while she recognised what this was it didn't stop her from feeling the resentment she so desperately fought to supress.
"I know you're not a child Sara but sometimes I feel like I need to drag you in the right direction. Trust me. This is for the best"
His hand reached out for the clump of papers in her hands and she realised that she had a decision to make. Follow her husband's instructions or follow her own. She gulped back the lump in her throat and stood up from her seat. With a defiant stare she pushed the papers into her purse and slung it over her shoulder before marching out of the diner.
He called after her; she could hear his voice mixing in with the music and the hum of traffic as she crossed the road and forged her way across town. The night air bit at her skin and the darkness felt close and ominous but she kept walking, determined that she was going to get as far away from Grissom, and Sandra and everyone as she could.
She had been walking for hours; at least it felt like she had. The streets wound on and on and her feet just kept moving, her eyes never looking back and her anger slowly slipping away. Finally she found a bench perched on the side of the bay, she was only a few blocks from their hotel. If she looked hard enough she could probably see the light from their room window shining in the night sky.
With a defeated sigh she collapsed on the bench, exhaustion sunk into her bones making her drowsy and emotional as she replayed the events of the day in her mind. She knew Grissom was probably right, there was nothing to be found in these papers but more unanswered questions and torment.
With trembling hands she retrieved the bundle she had rescued, wincing at their crumpled corners and stained sheets. The wind caught them in its flurry, fanning them out like the pages of a book and a line of numbers caught her eye.
It was a birth certificate, she expected it to belong to Michael or herself but the name on the top line made her heart stop in her chest.
'Amy Louise Sidle'
her eyes desperately scanned the rest of the document in the hope that the answer lay in the boxes but the only answer it gave to her was that Laura had given birth to the child in the photograph.
And Sandra had lied through her teeth.