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If she ever does.
When Olivia wakes, the last thing I want is for her to see herself covered in her mother's blood, so I'll do my best until she wakes up.
With the dress in hand, I carry it into the bathroom, toss it into the trash can beside the toilet, and take the bag out, tying it up. I'll take it downstairs with me later to throw away, but for now, that'll do to conceal the smell and evidence of the destroyed dress that I'm sure Olivia was thrilled to be wearing. She's always loved dresses and pretty things as much as I do.
My guilt is causing me a stomachache. I should've gone with Lee, and I should've watched the camera footage to ensure that Rachel and Olivia were okay, especially considering Lee hadn't been able to get ahold of them all day.
Instead of taking precautions, I agreed to let my pretty thing go alone, right into a trap where she could've been killed. I'll never forgive myself for not being there for her. I'm so fucking stupid.
I wasn't there to protect Rachel like I promised I'd always do. Nor did I protect Olivia like I vowed the day she was born.
That day my second time meeting Rachel. Lee had asked her to call me, and I rushed right over, surprised that after radio silence, Lee wanted to see me again. She was nine months pregnant and in active labor.
She nearly broke my hand. She was squeezing it so tight. But right there in Rachel's tiny apartment, my pretty thing delivered a beautiful six-pound baby girl with powerful lungs.
Lee has always been beautiful, but at that moment, seeing her holding her daughter, she'd never looked more beautiful. She was sweaty, and her hair was messy, but I couldn't resist capturing the moment. I took Rachel's disposable camera and captured a photo of my pretty thing and her beautiful daughter.
Through the years, I've had a front-row seat watching Olivia grow up. When Lee was unable to be there, I was there. While Rachel worked, I was there babysitting, playing dress-up, buying her first bike, and taking countless pictures of her life to share with Lee.
Olivia is my blood family, after all. Unfortunately, her father is my cousin. Was, considering Colton is now dead, just like his disgusting parents.
"Ace." The child's small, scared voice breaks me away from my thoughts. I rush to her side, sit beside her on the bed and take her small hand in mine. Tears fill her bright blue eyes. "My mommy is dead." Sitting up, she throws her arms around me. Her heartbreaking sobs fill the air, causing warm tears to slip down my cheeks unexpectedly.
Rubbing her back soothingly, I pull away slightly and brush her blonde hair out of her tearstained, snotty face. "Go take a shower, my girl. It'll help you feel better, then we'll talk it out." Her eyes widen, and her grip on me tightens. She's afraid of letting me go, fearful of being alone.
"It's okay. I'll be right outside the door waiting for you. But you need to get clean first," I say, standing and holding my hand out for her. Thankfully, Rachel had her wear a slip under her dress, so she's still semi-decent.
"Promise you won't leave me?" she asks, holding up her pinky to me.
"I promise, my girl. I'll never leave you." After hooking our pinkies together to seal my promise, she slowly stands up and hurries toward her bathroom, closing the door behind her. A moment later, I hear the shower turn on and the slamming of the glass shower door.
While she's cleaning herself up, I walk into her closet to find some clothing. From my years of babysitting, I know what her favorite pieces of clothing are. For pajamas, she loves her pink and white polka dot long-sleeve pajama set, along with her unicorn slippers.
Five minutes later, I hear the door creak open and see Olivia's pale face peek out. "Ace, I need clothes." Her voice is flat and sad, lacking her usual happiness.
Nodding, I carry her clothes over to her and pass them through the crack in the door. She takes them, shutting the door right after to have privacy while she dresses.
When the door creaks open again, she walks out carrying hair supplies in her hand. Without a word, she empties her hands on the bed and sits down on the floor, pulling on her fluffy pink socks while I sit on the bed behind her.
Taking the hairbrush, I spray her hair with some strawberry-scented leave-in detangler, carefully brush her hair, and weave her long, silky locks into a braid that goes down her back.
After it's braided and out of her face, she stands up and turns to face me. Her lips part, her big scared eyes fill with tears, and her shoulders begin to shake. "Ace, my mommy is gone." She hiccups.
"Oh, my girl." I reach forward and take her hands in mine. "Your mommy is in heaven watching over you."
"Why would her boyfriend want to hurt us? Mike was always nice to me and loved my mommy." She shakes her head. The poor girl is so confused and trying to make sense of the horrific things she had to witness at the hands of a man she thought she trusted.
"He was a bad man who did an evil thing, and..." Before I can continue speaking, she opens her mouth and cuts me off.
"He said that Aunty Lee is my real mommy and that he was my daddy. Is that true?" Fuck. I'll never lie to her, but I don't think it's the right time to discuss this topic. She's confused and hurting enough right now, and I don't want to further add to her confusion. But seeing the fear in her eyes, I choose not to lie and tell her the truth.
"He's right. Lee is your biological mother. You grew inside of her belly, and she gave birth to you. When you were a baby, she gave you to your mommy, Rachel, so she could raise you."
"Like adoption? Stefan at school is adopted. He has two dads, but a woman birthed him."
I nod. "Yes, like adoption."
"What about my dad? Aunty Lee said his real name is Colton."
