“Most little girls dream of the day they’ll become a mother,” she began with a quiver. “They push their little dollies around in a miniature stroller. They give them bottles. They nurture them. All of this to prepare for what many women believe to be their sole purpose in life.”
She took a deep breath, glancing down before returning her attention to the rapt crowd, many of them holding signs with Melanie’s photo on it, praying for her safe return. Alexander had never been one to pray or even follow any sort of organized religion, but he was thankful for their prayers. He was willing to try anything in order to hold his daughter again.
“But not me,” Olivia confessed. “I always thought there was something wrong with me. Why didn’t this motherly urge ever hit? I thought maybe as I matured, as I grew older, the bug would finally strike. Even when most of my friends were getting married and starting a family, I didn’t feel happy for them. In fact, I was sorry for them. Sorry they couldn’t just pick up and go to whatever tropical destination they wanted at a moment’s notice. Sorry they couldn’t go to happy hour after work. Sorry they couldn’t sleep in on a Saturday.
“Then I met someone…” She glanced over her shoulder at Alexander and held her hand out. He took a few steps and clutched onto her outstretched hand, joining her at the podium. “And everything changed.” Her eyes remained locked with his. “I fell in love.”
A warmth spread through him, filling his heart, his pulse becoming steady and calm, a welcome moment of peace. She stood on her toes and placed a delicate kiss on his lips. Cameras snapped, but he tuned them out. The only thing that mattered at this moment was his devotion to his wife.
Smiling, she gave him a comforting look, then turned back toward the crowd. “My love for Alexander Burnham was and still is so strong, so special, so unique. He brought out feelings I never knew existed.” She paused, clutching onto the podium as she closed her eyes, trying to steady herself.
“But the love I have for my husband is nothing compared to my love for my daughter.” Several tears escaped her eyes.
Alexander leaned down, kissing the top of her head. He hated to see her hurting like this. She didn’t deserve to live through this kind of pain. Nobody did.
“I’ll never forget how I felt leaving the hospital with her in my arms.” She wiped her cheeks, then placed her hand over her heart, letting out a shallow sigh before refocusing her attention on the audience.
Alexander hated to admit it, but Agent Moretti was right. The crowd was on the edge of their proverbial seats, hanging on to each and every word Olivia spoke. They were able to see bits of themselves in her. Those who were mothers nodded in agreement, wiping their own cheeks, unable to imagine being in her shoes.
“I was so nervous. I worried I would mess up, wouldn’t know what to do. I remember staring into the car seat, which I wasn’t even sure we had installed correctly, at this tiny human who depended on me for everything. I couldn’t believe the hospital would just let us take her home without some sort of test.” She paused, allowing the crowd to respond with polite chuckles. “I didn’t know if I was up to the task of being a mother. Well, as it turns out…” She glanced at Alexander, then back at the crowd. “I was.”
A small smile crossed her face. “I’ve achieved a lot during my time here on this planet. I graduated at the top of my class in college. I’ve traveled and seen the world. I helped start a fitness center where, to this day, we try to improve the lifestyles of thousands of people. But all of that pales in comparison to what I believe is my greatest accomplishment, and that’s being Melanie’s mom.”
She opened a folder on the podium and took out a large 8x10 photo of Melanie. She was smiling wide, displaying a few missing teeth. Brown curls cascaded down her shoulders, framing her face.
“This is Melanie Sarah Burnham,” Olivia said with a strong voice, cutting through the audience. “She loves dogs, pancakes, and the Red Sox. She still believes in Santa Clause and the Easter Bunny. For her birthday this year, she asked everyone invited to her party to bring unwrapped toys she could donate to kids less fortunate who have never received birthday presents. A girl after my own heart, she saved a fawn with a broken leg that was found on our property. After searching for its mother, to no avail, she cared for and nursed the fawn back to health before releasing it back into the wild. And this was when she was only six years old.
“She wants to be a veterinarian when she grows up. Or president. Or an astronaut. It changes every day.” A slight laughing rippled through, and Alexander glanced down at the assembled crowd. Some had trouble keeping their own emotions at bay. Chins trembled, lips pinched together, unbridled tears escaped watery eyes.
“Before I had a baby, I would hear reports of a missing child and feel a pang of sympathy for what the family was going through, but I would move on and forget the face and name when a different story came on. That all changed after I had Melanie. Whenever I heard any story involving a child, all I could think was, ‘What would I do if that were Melanie?’” She paused, gripping the podium as she closed her eyes, drawing in a slow breath.
“Never in a million years did I think I would be up here, begging for the public’s help to bring my baby home,” she choked out. “We’ve become the story that, years ago, I would listen to, then forget.” She shook her head, her words barely audible through the lump in her throat. “This time, I can’t forget. I’m living a nightmare. Every second that passes, I lose another sliver of hope that we’ll find her. I beg you. Look at this face.” She held up the photo of Melanie again. “Memorize the eyes. The nose. The smile. Please, help bring our baby back home.”
Sobs wracked through her as she buried her head in her hands, her body trembling. Alexander pulled her into his arms, wishing he could erase her pain, that he could turn back the clock and prevent this from happening. He held her close, not wanting to let her go, as photographers captured her very public breakdown with the intention of showing it on the five o’clock news just to score higher ratings. He wanted to rip those cameras out of their hands. He hated that the press could be so insensitive they’d want to capitalize on what would be one of the most difficult moments of a person’s life. The media couldn’t possibly fathom what they were currently going through. Alexander doubted any of them even had a spouse, let alone a daughter. This was just another job to them. Go listen to another poor family talk about their missing daughter and beg for the public’s help in finding her. All they cared about was taking enough photos and shooting enough footage to make the boss happy before it was time to clock out.