Chapter 2

I didn't pull away, just let her cold hand grip mine.

"The hospital said we'll have to wait a bit longer," I said.

Emily's face went pale right before my eyes.

Charles turned around and strode over, his eyes so dark with worry it felt suffocating.

"Why are we still waiting? Didn't I tell you to use your family's connections?" he pressed.

I met his gaze, calm and unflinching.

There was a storm of anxiety in his eyes and a flash of panic he couldn't hide, but none of it was for Anna, because all of that fear was for the child he and Emily had together.

What a joke.

We'd been married for ten years, and for five of those, he was right there beside me, helping me search for my daughter.

Every time we'd rush out, full of hope, only to drag ourselves back, defeated and empty-handed when the trail went cold.

He'd always pull me into his arms, rest his chin on my head, and whisper gently, "Sophie, we'll have another child."

"But there's only one Grace," I'd sob.

He would fall silent and hold me so tightly that it seemed the pain was choking him too.

Thinking about it now, I understood that he probably hadn't been in pain at all.

He had been afraid.

He had been afraid that I would actually find Grace.

He was terrified that the shameful history he shared with Emily would be ripped out of the shadows and exposed for all to see, laid bare in the harsh light of day.

Anna woke up.

She lay on the snow-white hospital bed, her face so pale she looked almost see-through, like she could break at any moment.

An IV was taped to the back of her hand, the thin tube hooked up to a bag of medicine, each drop ticking away like a timer on her life.

"Mom," she called out.

Her voice was so soft, barely more than a whisper, weakened by her illness.

My heart clenched, a sharp pain shooting through me before I could even think.

Over the past year, it was like I was raising a child all over again.

I sat with her, helping her learn to speak, gently correcting her when her words came out muddled.

I held her hand, guiding her as she traced each letter of her name, one stroke at a time.

Countless nights, I'd hold her close, waiting for her to wake up crying from a nightmare, then softly soothe her back to sleep.

I watched her grow up, every single step of it. She wasn't my flesh and blood, but I loved her more than anything. I loved her truly.

I walked over, but her hand slipped right past me, grabbing onto Emily's sleeve and holding tight.

"Mom, am I going to die?" she whispered.

The room was so quiet it was almost suffocating, every faint beep and hum from the machines echoing in the silence.

Emily's face went stiff for a split second, and the smile she forced looked even worse than if she'd just cried.

She carefully took Anna's hand and placed it in mine, her voice extra gentle and deliberate. "Anna's just confused from being sick. She mistook me for her mom. I'm just Emily, remember? This is your real mom."

Anna let Emily guide her hand into mine, her fingertips icy cold.

But her eyes flickered, a little uneasy, before she quickly looked down again.

This wasn't the first time I'd felt that distance between us.

Anna had always been like this.

She was always good and always sweet, and she never caused any trouble.

But every time I tried to get close, she'd instinctively shrink back, almost like it was a reflex.

There was always something in her eyes, a wall I couldn't get past no matter how hard I tried.

I used to worry about it, but Charles would put his arm around me and say, "Anna's an orphan. She never felt what a real family was like growing up, so she's not used to people being so close to her. Give her some time."

I believed him.

I thought maybe I just wasn't loving her enough, or maybe she didn't feel secure with me.

So I tried even harder, putting all my longing and guilt for Grace onto her, trying to make up for what I'd lost.

But her subconscious habits never changed.

It wasn't until today that it finally hit me.

It wasn't that she was uncomfortable with it, because she had given her heart to another mother a long time ago.

That place was filled to the brim, and there was no way anyone else could squeeze in.

I sat down by the bed, swallowing the bitter ache in my chest, and gently stroked Anna's soft hair.

"Of course not," I murmured, trying to sound as reassuring as possible.

She tensed up even more, her eyes flicking anxiously to Emily before she whispered to me, "Mom, will you stay with me?"

She was asking me, but her eyes were fixed on Emily.

My fingertips paused in her hair, lingering for a moment.

After a moment, I withdrew my hand, my voice barely above a whisper. "Just focus on getting better."

Anna was only a child, so she didn't catch the shift in my tone. She took it for a promise and drifted off, feeling safe.

Emily stood behind me, silent.

I could see her warped reflection in the smooth metal of the nightstand.

Her eyes brimmed with jealousy and pain she couldn't hide, fixated on my hand clasped with Anna's.

Her own daughter was lying there, barely hanging on, calling me Mom.

And she, the real mom, could only stand there as the godmother, watching from the sidelines like an outsider, powerless to do anything.

How pathetic she was.

And how thoroughly she deserved it.

That night, Charles drove me home.

The rain was pouring down, hammering the windshield and turning the world outside into a blur of white. The wipers thrashed back and forth, fighting a losing battle against the downpour.

He gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white.

"Sophie, Anna can't wait any longer," he said.

His voice was thick, almost swallowed by the roar of the rain.

I leaned back in the passenger seat, my head tilted as I stared out the window at the neon lights stretching the city into a kaleidoscope of colors. I didn't say a word.

He sounded impatient, and his voice went low and tight. "Didn't the doctor say so? If we wait on the registry, who knows when it will ever come through."

He turned to me, and his tone went sharp and commanding. "You know how long the regular queue takes. Your family has people at the Red Cross, don't they? Pick up the phone and say the word, because it's easy for you."

I finally turned to face him, locking eyes with him, not backing down.

"Charles, when did Anna suddenly become so important to you?" I shot back.