One Last Breath

the incessant questioning, and she couldn’t help but question why Claire was pushing so. It had to have been clear that Tara was uncomfortable with the conversation.
Claire moved closer to the island counter until she stood directly across from her. Tara could sense her movement, but her eyes remained focused on her coffee mug, trying to deter any further conversation. But all of a sudden, Tara felt Claire’s hand clasp hers and then give it a gentle squeeze.
Tara looked up.
“You know you can tell me anything, right?” Claire asked. “I see you as family, Tara—as a daughter. I want you to know that you can always confide in me.”
Tara nodded, but she didn’t know what to say. It was clear that Claire knew she wasn’t being truthful. Tara knew Claire meant what she said, and it gave her a sudden surge of belonging––one that she had always searched for. Tara knew very well that she put walls around herself, and it was likely that Claire sensed that too. But as much as Tara wanted to grow closer to John’s family, she was in no way ready to tear this one wall down.
“Thank you,” Tara replied. “Yes, I do know that.”
There was brief silence, and Tara’s hand squeezed Claire’s on instinct, without even meaning to do so, and then she quickly pulled away. But Claire only smiled. It was as if Tara had said something without even speaking a word—that she was grateful, but she wasn’t ready yet to tell her what she held deep inside.
Footsteps interrupted the moment as their eyes darted to the hallway entrance that led to Tara’s bedroom. John stood in the doorframe. He looked at them sleepily.
“Good morning,” he said as he trudged into the kitchen.
But Tara was already looking at the clock. She needed to get ready, and she quickly excused herself before leaving the room.
***
Tara sat in the passenger seat of John’s car as they made their way to the airport. She had already told him of the awkward conversation with his mother, but he wasn’t surprised. He had already sensed it from Tara’s awkward exit from the kitchen, and how she seemingly stayed in their bedroom until they left—only leaving the room for a quick goodbye.
“I think she knows,” Tara finally said as she sighed and looked back down at her phone, double-checking that there were no delays with her flight. There weren’t. “It was like she was trying to pull it out of me.”
John’s eyes moved briefly to Tara before shifting back in front of him.
“She just loves you, Tara, and she just wants to make sure you’re okay.” He grasped her hand and slid his fingers between hers. It was something he had said numerous times already. “You have nothing to be ashamed of,” he added as he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Your past doesn’t define you. You never did anything wrong. Your dad did, and that doesn’t say anything about you.”
Tara sighed. “But it does, John. You know that.”
John remained silent. She had explained her reasoning to him before. And although John had always respected Tara’s feelings on the subject, he could never quite grasp what it felt like to be in Tara’s shoes. She knew it wasn’t his fault. No matter how hard he tried to empathize with her, no matter how hard he tried to understand, he was always limited because he never actually had the experience. Part of her envied that about him. He had a loving family—a normal family—and because of that Tara was certain that he didn’t fully understand the depths of shame.
To John, Tara was merely the victim of a tragedy. She was an innocent bystander. And because she didn’t play a part in the events that unfolded, in his eyes she had no reason to feel ashamed. But Tara knew different. Her past did define her, because no matter who she told, she would always look damaged.
She placed her phone back down and looked over at him. She could see him growing flustered, the way he knitted his eyebrows, evaluating his next choice of words carefully.
His display of distress suddenly made Tara feel sorry for him. He was trying so hard to say the right thing and to make Tara feel better, but there was no right thing to say.
John finally sighed. “I just don’t think you should worry about that right now. And I promise you, there’s nothing to worry about with my mom anyway.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it.
“You’re right,” Tara sighed.
She wasn’t going to keep pushing the subject, and she could see John relax slightly at her words. He knew that he didn’t have to keep reassuring her now. But he was also right. Tara had something much bigger to face, and it suddenly occurred to her that maybe she was using the situation with John’s mom as a distraction.
Tara’s phone beeped, interrupting her thought. It was her work phone, and as she picked it up, she could see Warren, her partner’s name, light up the screen. She had a text from him.
How is everything?
Tara assumed he was asking in regard to the storm. It occurred to her that she hadn’t even checked in with him to see how he was. Reinhardt mentioned that some agents had damage to their homes, and it didn’t even cross her mind at the time that Warren could be one of them. She felt guilty.
Everything’s fine. We didn’t have any damage. How about you?
No damage.
Tara was about to write that she was glad to hear it, but then Warren started typing again, and a message came through.
Reinhardt said you’re going to NY?
Tara’s heart sank. She wasn’t prepared for Warren to know. Ever since the trail killer case––since she proved herself to him and revealed the details of her past––Tara’s relationship with Warren had become much more level. Instead of seeing her as an inferior rookie, he now saw her as an agent with potential. He