And for what reason? Greed? The lust for power? A disregard for human life? These could be the same reasons Violet’s husband joined forces with the criminal organization involved in trafficking assault weapons.
If my late husband were alive, would he have fallen down the same destructive path? He and Chief Wilson had a lot in common. They were abusive, manipulative, and controlling. Maybe those same traits are required for being abadcop. If I can profile these sorts of people, it might help me write strong villains in Iris’s story.
I glance at the pile of writing craft books on the coffee table. On the other hand, I should probably try penning the first chapter to see how it goes. It might turn out that I hate writing fiction or I’m awful at it.
I put the journal aside, close my eyes for a moment to visualize the scene, and begin typing.
I’ve been working away at the first chapter for an hour when my phone rings on the table. I lean over and pick it up. Craig? My heart thuds to a standstill and my mouth turns drought dry.
“Hi, Craig.” The greeting comes out crackly and squeaked. I clear my throat. “How are you doing?” I try to infuse an upbeat, happy tone to my words, as if there isn’t a large group of protesters outside the window, chanting, “Protect our children. Convicts not welcome.”
“I’m good, Savannah.” Craig sounds anything but good. He sounds like a doctor who’s about to tell a patient they’ve only got a few hours left to live. My heart sinks. Even a defibrillator won’t get it beating again.
“Jessica,” I correct and curve my mouth into a smile, hoping it’s enough to hide my frustration from him. “I don’t go by my old name anymore. New start and all.”
“Right. Jessica. Grace told me you called the other day about seeing Lia.”
I bite my lip to keep from blurting that my daughter’s name is Amelia. “That’s right. She’s yours and Grace’s daughter…” Just saying the words out loud feels like razor blades slicing my throat from the inside. Each word stings my heart and my soul. I put my hand over my heart, as if that’s all it takes to keep me in one piece. “But…but I would love to see her again. To be part of her life—even if it won’t be in the same way it was before. I have a steady job. And my house has a room that’s perfect for children.”Don’t cry. Whatever you do, don’t cry. Don’t give him any reason to doubt I have it all together.
I keep repeating the words in my head, waiting for him to say the ones I’ve been dying to hear since I was released from prison.
“I know you miss her.” Craig’s tone softens. “You love her, and you were a good mother to her. That much was clear to Grace and me. While you were her mom, you raised her to be a wonderful little girl.”
There’s no missing the huge “but” looming over the words. I bite my lower lip. Hard.
Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Please don’t say it, I silently plead to him.Please don’t say the words that will forever break my heart.
“But I don’t think you being in her life will be possible,” he continues, barely skipping a beat. “I know you’ve been trying to start your life over again, Sav—Jessica, but…but you were Wayne’s wife. Wayne. Lincoln. Both of my brothers are part of my past. The reasons I’m estranged from my family. I can’t…I can’t deal with that part of my life again.”
“But Amelia is part of my late husband”—I still can’t say his name out loud—“and you had no issues with accepting her into your life despite that.” Desperation leaks into my voice, roughing up the calm I’m trying to infuse into it.
“Because she was an innocent child. An innocent child who needed a home and loving parents. I look at her and I don’t see my brothers or the bullying I dealt with growing up in that house. I just see a sweet and generous little girl. She’s my light. But you…you’re a reminder of the darkest time of my life. I’m sorry, Jessica, but my decision is final.” He does sound sorry, but that doesn’t make me feel better. His words slice deep into my soul, spill the hope I’d been harboring since I was released from prison. It drips to the floor, spreads into a puddle, evaporates.
And I’m left shredded and spent.
I’m hollow.
I swipe at the tears soaking my cheeks. “I understand,” I say, attempting a smile. I don’t want him to know how much his words are destroying me. It won’t sway Grace’s and his decision. “But maybe if you give it a little time. Give me a chance. You won’t feel that way. Once you get to know?—”
“I don’t know, Jessica. I don’t see that happening. It’s just too much.” There’s a finality to his words, a door slamming shut in my face.
A hiccupped sob escapes me, and the hand holding the phone shakes. “Okay.” Disappointment and pain leak into the word, cracking my insides to pieces. “I’ll let you go now. Thank you…thank you for calling me.”
I end the call and put the phone on the coffee table next to my World War II research books.
My hand hovers over the phone, then with a strangled cry, I sweep my hand across the surface of the table, knocking everything off. The journal. The books. My phone. Only my laptop is spared from the grief gutting me.
I want to punch something, to scream, to cry. But I don’t want to risk anyone outside hearing me and having that reported on the evening news. It will only feed into their lies, as well as their fear and distrust of me.
I pick up Angelique’s journal, clutch it to my chest, and walk upstairs on trembling legs.
I open the door to the room that was to be Amelia’s. I don’t even register the work Troy and his brothers have done on it and head for the closet. I pull open the door to the secret room and crawl inside. The blankets and pillows I’d given Violet and Sophie are still here, forming a makeshift bed.
I curl into a fetal position on the blankets and scream and scream and scream into a pillow. I scream until my lungs are burning. Scream until I have nothing left in me to give.
A whimper comes from the doorway, and a warm hairy body lies next to me. Bailey whimpers again.
“Everything I’ve done has been for nothing,” I say through the flood of tears. My voice is hoarse like it was after Dunbar strangled me and my throat is equally sore. “I’ve lost my daughter forever.”
