“What do you mean ‘in the state that she’s in’?” I look to Mattheus. “That’s what you said, right?”
Gio clears his throat. “Your mother, Felicity, has been inconsolable since we discovered you were alive. She blames herself for losing you.”
“Mattheus said I was kidnapped by a nurse in the hospital.”
“You were. While you were in the nursery. Your mother had a difficult pregnancy that left her unable to have any more children after you. While she was recovering, the nurse offered to take you to the nursery so she could sleep. She agreed, and that was the last we ever saw you alive.”
“Alive. Meaning you saw a baby you thought was me.”
“From a distance,” he explains. “Neither of us could bring ourselves to get any closer. Something I blame myself for. If I had just been strong enough, then maybe I would have noticed something and realized that baby wasn’t you. That you were still alive.” He trails off. “But you’re here now, my darling daughter. And look at you! Just as beautiful as your mother.”
I want to believe him.
I want so badly to believe everything he’s saying.
But the kidnapping is making it really, really hard.
“I want to see those results, and I want to go home.”
“Of course, of course,” Gio says. “Can I ask that you at least meet your mother first? She’s waiting for us in the dining room for dinner but has no idea you’re here. I would love for her to meet you. Then, if you still choose to go, I’ll have our private plane deliver you home as soon as possible.” When I hesitate, he adds, “Please. I apologize for how you were brought to us, but I’m so grateful you’re here.”
I consider what would happen if I pushed back. If I were to demand that he take me home right now. Would they want to see me again? Does it matter? Whether he approves of Mattheus’s methods or not, I was kidnapped. Not only that, but I was drugged too. Drugged and abducted from my living room.
Meaning I definitely can’t trust Mattheus.
Given that Gio raised him, can I trust him? Or the woman they claim is my mother?
Play ball, Emma. Get the lay of the land; then find a way to escape.
“I want to make a phone call.” I continue to cling to the lamp. “If you allow me that, then I’ll stay for dinner while you get your pilot ready to take me home.”
“Of course. Mattheus, allow her to use your phone.”
“Here you go.” He unlocks it, then hands it to me, so I remove one hand from the lamp to take the phone from him.
I stare down at the phone. Who do I call? It’s not like I have anyone’s number memorized. Everything’s saved on my contact list. What a fun side-effect of not needing to type in a phone number. Aside from 9-1-1, I have nothing memorized.
There’s an idea.
Except—what if they take that as a threat? What if they silence me before I can even utter a single word?
Think, Emma. And then it hits me. There is one number I do have memorized. Because, once upon a time, I was a love-stricken teenager calling to talk to her boyfriend every few minutes.
Please answer. I type in the numbers, then press the phone to my ear as it begins to ring. Come on.
“Hello?” Ruth’s voice is like a beacon. A familiarity that brings tears to my eyes and releases some of my fear.
“It’s Emma,” I choke out, my words strained with emotion.
“Emma! Oh, thank God above. You’re okay. Where are you? Call Dylan,” she adds, likely to her husband, Tommy. Where she is, he’s never far, and vice versa.
“I don’t know where I am yet, but I’m okay.” I look to Gio for confirmation on where we are, but he doesn’t say a word. Just watches me, expression serious.
He’s nervous. As he should be, I suppose. Given how I was brought here.
“The boys are trying to find you. Everyone is. The sheriff has combed through most of the county by now.”
“I’m fairly certain I’m not in Texas anymore.”
