“Of course.”
There was a brief flurry of movement, and then Sophie placed her against my chest and I gasped, seeing her for the first time.
“She’s so tiny,” I rasped, holding her tenderly. My heart soared for this bundle of life I’d grown these past nine months. Her skin was flushed, her eyes squeezed shut, her little mouth open as she mewled softly. I put my finger into her small palm and her hand curled around it.
A broken sound escaped my throat.
“Hi,” I whispered, my voice shaking from the chattering of my teeth. “You’re so perfect.”
She quieted.
“Keep talking to her,” Sophie encouraged. “I think she likes your voice.”
“I’m your mom,” I said, the words shattering me. “And I love you so much.”
Tears fell onto her soft skin, and I quickly brushed them away, like I could protect her from even that.
“She’s beautiful,” Sophie murmured, hugging us both.
“She is,” I said, the grief already overwhelming.
I traced her tiny cheek with my fingertip, memorizing everything about her. The shape of her nose, the softness of her skin, how right she felt in my hold.
“I have to protect you,” I went on, tears blurring my vision. “In another life, I would watch you grow up, hold you whenyou were sad or hurt. In another life, we would be happy and together, but?—”
I collapsed into sobs. It felt like I was digging my own grave just voicing it.
“You deserve everything, my little Aria, and I’ll love you forever,” I whispered against my daughter’s head. “In another life, we’d have a happy ending.”
I closed my eyes, holding her as tightly as I could, trying to burn that moment into my memory.
She would be mine for two weeks.
NINE
VIOLET
Iarrived in Athens yesterday, ready to get to work. The file—which wasn’t a file at all, but a flimsy note—that awaited me at the check-in counter wasn’t overly enlightening. It provided instructions on my next steps and gave me a rough background on the nameless patient.
Subject in their early forties. Needs a second chance.
I thanked the concierge, then accepted my room key and paid the hotel fees while I pondered on the ridiculousness of the note.
A “second chance”? What was this, the screenplay of a telenovela? Yes, I’d had some incredibly cryptic cases in the past, but this took the cake and was beyond silly. I started to wonder if maybe I should ditch this case and go straight to sabbatical.
I sighed, knowing I wouldn’t do such a thing. It might not have been much to go off, but I’d received even slimmer files with criminals I’d evaluated in the past. I’d visit the patient, see what the deal was, and then I’d focus on me and what mattered to me.
Until then, I was saddled with uncertainty about how long I’d be staying and whether I’d need a temporary apartment. Selfishly, I hoped it would require a long-term commitment because I wanted to find them.
Lykos Costello.
The man who’d held my heart within his grasp and never let go. After so many years, I needed closure. I needed to move on.
And even more crucial was that I found her: my daughter.
Sunrise spilled over the hills, catching on the whitewashed houses that climbed the slopes like scattered seashells. Blue shutters and tiled roofs gleamed in the light as the town slowly rose from slumber. From the ridge, I could see the sea, a stretch of brilliant turquoise beckoning me closer.
I usually would have taken a cab, but nervous energy coursed through me and it was such a beautiful morning with mild temperatures that I decided to walk to my destination.
