“It’s okay, Mom, I’ll answer his questions. Give us one more minute.”
She took Abby’s hand and led her over to the couch, where Sky was lying. Lily sat down and gently kissed her daughter’s forehead. Sky woke up, her eyes sleepy. Lily lifted Sky into her arms.
“Chicken, there’s someone you need to meet. Abby, this is my daughter. Her name is Sky.”
Abby stared at Sky, and Lily held her breath. She wanted Abby to love her child as much as Lily did. She wanted her to understand what Sky meant, what she had given Lily all these years. Abby held Lily’s gaze.
“She’s incredible, Lil. Incredible.”
A rush of relief flooded Lily. She needed Abby to love her daughter. She needed her acceptance. But Sky looked confused, blinking furiously as she gazed between Abby and Lily with wide and confused eyes. Sky finally spoke, her tiny voice tinged with disbelief.
“Mommy, she has your face.”
Neither Lily nor Abby, it seemed, was expecting that, and they grinned. Lily tried to explain.
“Remember when Mommy told you that she had a sister?”
“Your twin sister?”
“Yes. This is my twin sister, Abby.”
Sky was still staring, analyzing their faces.
“Sky. I’m your Aunt Abby. It’s so nice to meet you.”
Abby reached out to shake Sky’s hand. Sky mirrored Abby’s actions, put out her hand, and they shook.
“Are you back from your adventure now? Mommy said we couldn’t see you or Grandma because you were on a big adventure.”
Lily knew how difficult it must have been for Abby to keep smiling. But she never wavered. “Yes. I’m back from my big adventure, and I’ve never been so happy to see your mom and to meet you!”
“Mommy missed you a lot. She talked about you all the time.”
“I missed her too.”
Lily wanted to stay here, to tell Sky how amazing her aunt was, to find out everything there was to know about Abby’s life, but there would be time for that later. Right now, she had things she needed to do. Lily turned her head, zeroing in on the sheriff. He sprang forward like a jack-in-the-box.
“I’m really sorry ’bout all this, Lily, but the clock is ticking. If you were abducted…?” Lily saw the flash of anger in her mother’s eyes. Abby’s expression mirrored Mom’s. She spoke up instantly.
“What does that mean, Sheriff? If she was abducted? Where do you think she was? A fucking day spa?”
Sheriff Rogers tried to backtrack but Abby kept at him, her words a steady stream of fury. Lily’s attention drifted, an argument unfolding around her. If there was anything Rick had taught her, it was that losing your cool made you weak. Lily refused to give in to weakness. She looked down at Sky.
“Stay right here. Mommy will be back in a second.”
Sky obeyed, laying her head on the pillow, her exhaustion overwhelming her. Lily moved away, out of Sky’s earshot. Abby, Mom, and Sheriff Rogers followed. She spoke softly so that Sky couldn’t hear her.
“It was more than an abduction,” Lily said, silencing everyone. “A man held me hostage. He tortured me. For years, I was his captive. Today we escaped.”
Abby squeezed Lily’s hand. Eve gave her an encouraging nod, as if to say, It’s okay. We’ve got you.
Rogers took Lily’s silence as his cue to speak.
“We should get you and Sky to the hospital. Do you have this man’s name? A description? Anything that might help us track him down?”
All Lily had to do was say his name, and the officers would rush off and make an arrest. But all those cops waiting outside were strangers. What if they knew him? What if they played in his Tuesday-night basketball league? Or he tutored one of their kids? Maybe a few of them sat side by side with Rick and Missy Hanson at Sunday morning mass. A shiver raced up Lily’s spine. What if she told them who he was and they didn’t believe her?
“No way. Not Rick Hanson,” they’d say.
“Guy’s a saint.”
“Wait, that Rick Hanson? Not in a million years.”
Or worse, what if they were like him? Sadists disguised in state-issued uniforms.
Lily considered her options. What would happen after she gave them his name? They’d take her to a hospital, where doctors would poke and prod her and Sky endlessly. Doctors would document the abuse. Detectives and therapists would ask all sorts of invasive questions, while Sheriff Rogers and his men got to play hero.
“What’s today?” Lily asked Abby.
“It’s Wednesday, November 11, 2015.”
Lily glanced at the hall clock. It was a little after ten in the morning. He would be regaling his second-period students with stories about his weekend exploits. Maybe he’d share a humorous anecdote about his writer’s block.
“I can’t crack the last chapter,” he’d say.
Or maybe he’d tell his students about another one of Missy’s failed kitchen experiments, or he’d lament the horrible Giants’ defense. She bet he never once mentioned the hostages he kept locked away in his underground bunker.