Page 191 of Beautiful Scars

Chapter 19

MEISIE

Ifollow the sound of children laughing. It’s not one I’m familiar with, and I’ll be honest, not one I’m entirely comfortable with either. Maybe that’s something that comes with being a mother, not just having given birth.

I try to swallow, but it feels like something’s stuck in my throat.

I missed Grace—Maddie’sfirst laugh. Her first word. The first time she walked, ran…

Her first everything.

I’ll never forgive Mom for that, even if she was protecting me. I’ll never get back those first moments with Maddie.

I push open a swing door, but I don’t step through. I first have to find my daughter in between the seven or so little kids running around in the playroom. I scan each little girl’s face, and realize I have no idea how my daughter even looks.

Is her hair dark, like mine, or blond, like Alex’s? I can’t remember seeing a single strand of hair on her head. She’d barely opened her eyes before she was snatched from me.

My chest begins to tighten. I fight an overwhelming urge to turn and run.

An arm slips through mine. I flinch, and turn wide eyes to Sarah. She gives me a small, tight smile.

“You got this,” she whispers.

Like hell I do.

But then I hear one of the children laughing. A girl.

All that stuff they say about maternal instinct? Maybe there’s something to it. Because I swear to God, the moment I hear that laugh, I know it’s Maddie’s. I happen to make eye contact with Sarah as I turn my head, and she nods at me.

I look past her, and see a dark-haired girl on the other side of the playroom. She’s busy struggling into a pair of fairy wings, pausing every few seconds to adjust the red plastic fireman’s hat on her head.

The floor suddenly feels spongy. The other children’s squeals and chatter fade to a drone as I cross the room.

“Maddie?” I rasp out before clearing my throat. “Need a hand there?”

My daughter spins around, narrowing her eyes as she sizes me up in one glance. She shakes her head, almost dislodging the helmet. “I’m fine,” she says. But then she purses her lips and considers me again. “But you can hold this, if you want.”

She takes off the helmet, shoving it toward me and waving it until I take it from her. “Thanks,” she says, and then wriggles into the wings.

“So, a fire fighting fairy?” I ask, blinking urgently to hold back tears.

She’s so fucking beautiful. I can’t even believe this is real. And maybe it’s not. Maybe I’m dreaming or something. Because how...how on earth is it possible that this adorable human being is my daughter?

Mydaughter.

“Aye,” she drawls, as if she’s still figuring out the specifics of her niche occupation. “So I can fly over the fire and put it out.” She mimics tipping over a bucket. “Whoosh!”

“That’s...that’s clever.”

“You okay, lady?”

Oh my God. She called me “lady”. “Yeah,” I manage, despite the huge obstruction in my throat. “I’m really good.”

“’Cos you look like you wanna cry.”

“Yeah?”

“I cry sometimes too, so it’s okay if you wanna.” A warm, slightly sweaty hand grabs mine. “Do you want a hug? Hugs help if you feel sad. Granny Annie gives the best hugs. Let’s go ask her for a hug.”