“Did your Aunt Eva have money when she took you in?”
Lexi stopped moving and stared out of the office window. Outside, a young mother was helping her red-haired daughter up to a silver drinking fountain. “She had a job and a place to live.”
“You have a college degree and you’re a hard worker. On top of that, you’re one of the most honorable people I know. You know more about love—and its lack—than most people. So I’ll ask you again: what do you want to do? It’s a simple question. Either you stay or you go.”
“And if I choose to stay?”
“We would petition the court to modify the parenting plan. We’d seek joint custody. Or, failing that, visitation rights.”
“Supervised, I suppose. Me being an ex-con.”
“You aren’t a violent offender, Lexi,” he said. “You aren’t your mother. But yes, they might impose supervision at the start. I didn’t say it would be easy, but you will get visitation rights at least, and you’ll quite possibly get joint custody. We wouldn’t get full custody, but you’re her mother, Lexi. The court knows how important you are to her. And you’re welcome to stay at my office until you find someplace else.”
You’re her mother.
For years, even before Gracie was born, Lexi barred that thought from her consciousness. The words were simply too painful to consider, but now, hearing them spoken aloud, she heard their sweetness, and longing swelled inside of her.
She could hold Gracie, hug her and kiss her and take her to the park …
“It won’t be easy,” Scot said into the building silence. “I imagine the Farradays will fight you.”
It was too late to worry about that now. She’d loosened the idea of motherhood, and it had uprooted her, swept her skyward. “Let’s file the papers,” Lexi said.
“You’re sure?”
She finally turned to face him. “I’m sure.”
*
Jude gave up trying to sleep at about four o’clock. She left the warmth of her bedroom and made her way into the dark living room. There, standing in front of the tall black windows, she stared at her own tarnished reflection.
She knew what the doctors wanted her to believe: that panic had caused her delusion rather than the other way around.
She wanted to believe it, too.
But she didn’t believe it and that was that. Sometime during the night, she’d become convinced. So much so that hours later, when Miles shuffled through the great room in search of coffee, she said. “I saw her. Lexi. I saw her.”
Miles looked confused. “Wait.” Walking past her, he went into the kitchen and came out with a cup of coffee. “None for you. You look ready to blast off as it is. Now, say it again.”
“I saw her. I wasn’t mistaken.” She tapped her foot nervously, stared up at him.
“I always wanted to keep track of her.”
She nodded curtly. “I know. I didn’t. Out of sight, out of mind.”
“Yeah. That’s how it works.” He stood there, naked except for his blue boxers, staring out the window. “Okay,” he finally said and handed her his coffee. “Let’s find out.”
He went to his laptop, pulled up a phone number, and then made a call.
“Hey, Bill, sorry to call so early, but we have a situation here. Can you find out when Alexa Baill was released?… yes, I’m aware we asked not to know. Something has changed. Yes. Thank you. I’ll be right here.”
He hung up and took his coffee back. “Are you okay?” he asked gently, touching her hair.
“I’ve been better.”
They stood there together, staring out at the backyard, saying nothing as the sky turned bright and blue. Time passed like the beats of their hearts, quiet and steady. The phone startled Jude so much she let out a little scream.
Miles answered. “Hello?”
Jude tapped her foot again and crossed her arms, digging her fingernails into her own arms so tightly she almost drew blood.
“Really?” Miles said, frowning. “Why is that? Oh. Okay, thanks. Again, sorry to bother you.” He hung up.