I squeeze her hand back, tight and desperate, just as she turns into the clinic.
Georgia parks in the tiny emergency bay and throws the truck in park, exhaling like it’s the first breath she’s taken in miles. Her knuckles are white on the steering wheel. And her eyes… her eyes are locked on the building’s sign like it’s a ghost.
The realization slices through me.
This is where her mom was born. The last link to a past she’s never made peace with. She once told me this building haunted her. That every time she drove by, she thought about stepping inside and asking if the doctors knew Lorna or the Walkers. But she was too scared. Too terrified of what they’d say.
Or what they wouldn’t.
And now… she’s here, fighting for her own daughter. Not by blood but loved more than her family ever loved her.
More than Marlee ever loved Aurora.
She did it because it was the fastest route to saving the little girl she’s come to love like her own. She did it without hesitation, even knowing what it would cost her.
I stare at her in awe, the air punched from my lungs.
“You said you love us,” I choke out, her words trickling in like honey.
She turns to me, eyes glassy but sure, and nods. “You’re my family. Of course I love you.”
And right then, it hits me like a freight train.
This woman… this fierce, soft, wildfire of a woman… is mine.
Ours.
And we’re never letting her go again.
Chapter Fifty Six
Mama
The moment we step through the door, the nurse bustles toward us. Her eyes widen at the sight of Aurora, red-faced and softly wheezing in Kade’s arms, but she doesn’t panic. Her hands are steady. Her voice is calm.
I’m jealous.
“Let me take her, please,” she says gently.
Kade hesitates for half a second before handing our daughter over, his arms shaking. I don’t think he realizes how close he is to collapsing.
The nurse smiles, kind but firm. “Just give us a minute to assess. This clinic is small, tiny rooms, tight spaces. I promise we’ll get your family back together soon.”
And then she’s gone, our daughter disappearing through the swinging doors.
My heart pounds in my chest, my ears, my throat.
I thought coming here would be unbearable. That the second I stepped through the doors I’d be haunted by the images of a family I’ve never met.
But all I can think about is Aurora.
Her little body pressed against Kade’s. Her frantic gasps, her swollen lip, the angry red patch spreading over her soft skin. How she screamed until her voice cracked.
She looked at me like I could make it better, and I couldn’t. Not fast enough. Not this time.
I don’t even realize I’m crying until Kade’s in front of me, his calloused hands cradling my face. He tips my chin up, those stormy-gray eyes locked on mine.
“She’s going to be okay, darlin’,” he says, throat bobbing. “We're all going to be okay.”
