Page 118 of Trust No One

Her brow furrowed. “Why did Mommy leave? She said she loved me.”

“She did, honey, she did.” The words sounded flat and insignificant. “I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere.”

Her lip trembled. “I want Mommy.”

I tucked the stuffed animal close to her, wishing I had her toys. Molly pushed the purple creature away.

“I’m sorry, Molly,” I said.

“I want my mommy,” she said.

“Do you want me to call your grandmother?” I asked.

“I don’t want Grandma,” Molly said.

“Why not?” I asked.

“She’s not fun. She yells.”

“Grandmas aren’t fun. But that doesn’t mean they don’t love you.”

Molly shook her head, her lips pursed. The child wanted her old life back. And I couldn’t give it to her.

“We don’t have to do anything now,” I said. “We’ll get a good night’s sleep and figure it out in the morning.”

Tears filled her eyes. “Will Mommy be back then?”

“No, honey,” I said. “It’s you and me now.”

I made small talk, told a story about the dinosaur—his name was Ernie. He was magical. Squeeze him tight, and he’ll make you feel better.

Finally, Molly drifted off to sleep. I held her hand. When her breathing slowed to a steady pace, I closed my eyes.

Footsteps sounded behind me.

I sat up, still gripping her hand.

Judson stood by her door. Hat in hand, a grave expression chiseled into his features. “How are you doing?” he asked.

It was good to see him. “I’m fine. It’s Molly I’m worried about.”

“It’s not going to be easy.”

“No.” A nurse entered the room. Checked vitals. When she left, I rose, carefully pulling my hand from Molly’s. I beckoned Judson to the hallway.

He was clearly tired. A dark beard shadowed his chin, and his shoulders weren’t rigid as they normally were. “How is she?”

I swiped away a tear. “Confused and upset.”

“I’ll reach out to county social services for grief counseling.”

I hadn’t thought that far ahead. “That would help.”

“How’re you doing?”

“I don’t know.” A smile flickered at the edges of my lips. It was a coping reaction that was becoming overused lately. “But I’ll figure it out.”

“All you can do.”