Free Vendetta by Lisa Harris

to the police academy. I figured it would not only help me continue searching for my sister, but maybe I could help someone else who was going through what our family had suffered. Not knowing what happened to someone you love is like not being able to wake up from some horrid nightmare. I wanted—needed—answers, and decided that the best way for me to find them was to be on the inside.”
    â€œAnd all these years later you’ve continued to blame yourself for being late that day.”
    Nikki nodded. “I should have been there. I could have stopped what happened to her if I’d been on time.”
    Tyler’s expression clouded. “Like I should have been there for Katie when she died?”
    She stiffened at the question. “That’s different.”
    â€œDifferent? Not to me. Three tours of duty in special ops, and I couldn’t save my own wife.”
    Nikki looked up at him and caught the loss simmering in his eyes. Fifteen months ago, he’d returned from the Middle East with a bullet in his leg, a Purple Heart in his backpack, and six months of physical therapy ahead of him. Katie had begged him not to reenlist. What neither of them knew at the time was that three months later, she’d be the one lying in the morgue.
    â€œKatie’s death wasn’t your fault,” she argued.
    â€œJust like what happened to Sarah wasn’t your fault.”
    A stocky black starling landed on the pavement a few feet from them and grabbed the crust of a sandwich some tourist had dropped. She wanted to believe him, but after all these years, the numbing grief and guilt had yet to dissipate. She should have been there. Should have saved Sarah. But she hadn’t. And that knowledge would haunt her until the day she died.
    â€œAnd while you might not have been able to find Sarah, we can still find Bridget,” he continued.
    She wanted so badly to believe him. Just like she wanted to believe that saving others might begin to redeem herself, but today she was drowning in a familiar tidal wave of emotion. Because today had hit way too close to home.
    She pressed her back against the wall. “What if I can’t? It’s been ten years since he surfaced. I have no idea how to find this guy.”
    â€œYou can’t do what? Save Bridget like you couldn’t save Sarah?” Concern creased his forehead. “Isn’t that what this is all about?”
    â€œYes . . . no . . . I don’t know.”
    He took her hand, rubbed his thumb across the back of it. “What happened to your sister changed your life. Your entire family’s lives. Just like losing Katie has changed mine.”
    â€œBut you still feel guilty too.”
    Tyler’s frown deepened. “Yes, and trust me, it’s easier for me to dole out advice than take it myself.”
    â€œI think it’s the not knowing that hurts the most. I don’t know if she’s alive or dead. Was she sold into sex trafficking? There’s nothing I can do to help her. That moment when the unsolved case goes cold and is no longer active, your hope begins to strip away.”
    â€œIt’s called complicated grief,” Tyler said. “Because added to the loss is the fact that there isn’t any resolution to deal with when one goes through the grieving process.”
    Complicated grief.
    No resolution.
    The words fit. Her grief hadn’t ended, because the story hadn’t ended. Nikki glanced back at the glass entrance to the visitor center. Officers were talking to tourists. Jack and Gwen would be here any moment, but all she could think about was Sarah and that photo. And the possibility that he was out there.
    â€œI think it was hardest—and still is—on my mom.” Her mind was lost in the past. “I know she thinks about Sarah every single day. I just want so badly to be able to find her and bring her home. To make everything right