“Would you consider adopting her?”
All the months of planning and sacrifice had finally paid off. Sarah could see what Amelia always knew about herself: she would make the perfect mother.
Maybe she could finally get the life she always wanted. She deserved it, didn’t she? She deserved happiness. She deserved peace. She deserved Caroline.
47 Marion
Now
The rain is heavy. The droplets have banded together and are plummeting down in thick gushes. I drive slower than normal on the way home, my windshield wipers operating like twigs against a flood.
The sound, however, is peaceful. I’ve always enjoyed falling asleep to the sound of rain. Ava must agree. She is out by the time we arrive back to the condo.
I do my best to unfasten the buckles of her car seat without disturbing her. I pull my jacket over as far as it will go, trying to shield her from the falling rain. I skip up the walkway, avoiding the puddles starting to pool along the curb, and quickly unlock the front door. I rush straight to her room, feeling that her clothes are not too damp and her diaper not too heavy beneath her jumper. I place her in the crib, and she exhales a breath of relief as she turns her head to the left, still deep in slumber.
I too exhale. She is asleep. She is safe. And this horrendous ordeal is almost over.
I wander back to the living room, which is still dark due to my hasty trek into the house. And yet, not so dark. The door, which I could have sworn I kicked closed, is cracked, a sliver of moonlight peeking inside.
“I thought you were having company.”
The voice behind me startles me so much I leap forward, closer to the door and light switch on the wall. I flick it, illuminating the room. Amelia stands in the kitchen. Her shoulders and hair are damp, as though she too just came in from the rain.
“Amelia? What are you doing here?”
“You said you had company. I didn’t want to interrupt you, but when I arrived, the house was dark. Then I saw you pull up, so I followed you in.”
“You really shouldn’t be here.”
“Why? It’s clear I’m not interrupting anything. We’re alone.” She takes another step closer. “Are you trying to avoid me?”
“No, but… it doesn’t matter. You don’t have the right to walk into my home.”
“Have you been to the hospital?”
“It’s none of your business where I’ve been. It’s late, and it would be best if you left.”
“Is Sarah awake?” She asks the question calmly, ignoring my demands.
“My mother’s name is Eileen.”
“So, she is awake?” A smile. “Have you spoken with her about me?”
“If you don’t leave, I’m going to call—”
“You might know her as Eileen. Mom. To me, she’ll always be Sarah. That poor girl in over her head. I tried to help her, you know.”
“Yes, actually. I know everything that happened back then. Most importantly, that you are not my mother. And really, I’m not convinced you were ever a victim in any of this. You need to leave.”
“I didn’t ask for this, Caroline. All I ever wanted was a child. I wanted you. And Sarah promised she’d do right by you, do right by me—”
“You didn’t help her! You weren’t forthcoming about anything, especially Bruce.”
“All we ever wanted was a child.” She looks down the hallway leading toward Ava’s room. “You’re a mother now, too. How can you not understand? Is there anything you wouldn’t do to protect your child?”
“You weren’t trying to protect me, Amelia. You tried to take me. There’s a difference.”
“Sarah is the one who took you. She’s the one who promised you a better life and stole it away. Gave herself a little pat on the back for making a responsible decision once in her miserable life, only to change her mind.”
“She did that because she realized you were a liar. That your husband was a pervert who attacked her friend. He attacked other students.”
“Children lie, don’t you understand? Women lie. They wanted a pay day, a little attention.”
“Do you seriously believe that?”
It’s hard to read her reaction. After all these years, she must have at least considered that Bruce was guilty. Mom wouldn’t have fought so hard to take me otherwise.
“Bruce was a good man, and Sarah murdered him right in front of me.” Her voice trembles.
“I know my mother. She wouldn’t have acted violently unless she felt a need to protect herself or me.”
“I am your mother!”
She stomps forward, stopping just inches in front of my body. She slaps me hard across the face. I step back, slamming into the door and pushing it shut. A trickle of terror climbs my spine. I need to run away, but I can’t do that with Ava sleeping in the next room. I realize I’m in real danger. Ava is in real danger. The anger I have toward Amelia halts, and I try to focus all my energy into keeping her calm.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “You’re right. I shouldn’t pass judgment without hearing your side of the story.”
These words are a complete lie. Amelia has had over a week to tell me her version of what happened all those years ago. Instead, she tried to keep up the charade she has created for the police and press all these years. That she’s a victim.
“I’ve told you my side,” she says, without hesitation. “Sarah was in trouble. She had no business raising a child. Me? I was ready. I had every resource available and then some. It was supposed to be the answer to both our problems. I would have you, and she’d have the opportunity to stop screwing up her life.”
Her words anger me. She was convinced Mom would be an inadequate parent, but she’s wrong. I’m the living proof. Who is she to deem who is worthy and who is not? No one’s ever completely ready to become a parent, but you adapt. You don’t try to take control of another person. I try not to let my emotions cloud my thinking. I need to find a way to get Amelia on my side.
“Why didn’t you just move on? Try to adopt another child? Why continue to support this lie for so long?”
“Because it was never a lie. You are my child. I couldn’t replace you like some lost item. And even if I’d wanted to, Bruce was dead. And the media, everything else… there weren’t as many options back then. You were my one shot, and then you were gone.” She covers her mouth with a palm, her voice trembling. “But things are different now. You have Ava. We could still have a future together, the three of us. And I could give her everything I never had the opportunity to give you.”
The idea of this woman being around my child leaves a twisting knot in my stomach, but I need to be careful. “That’s very kind of you.”
“It’s meant to be, isn’t it? You don’t have a husband. Ava doesn’t have a father. Between the three of us, she doesn’t need one. We can be a family.”
She takes a step toward the hallway leading to Ava’s room. I step forward, blocking her.
“Ava is sleeping, Amelia. It’s the middle of the night, and there’s a storm. It’s not safe to take her out in this.”
“She’ll be fine.” Amelia looks down, frisking her hands against her clothes. “If we leave now, we can be in New Hutton by sunrise.”
New Hutton? In what world would this woman think I’d be willing to take my child anywhere with her? Just as Mom described in her letters, her selfishness is frightening. All I want is to make her leave my house.
“It’s not safe.” I deepen my voice and take a step forward, forcing her to walk back toward the kitchen. She must see that I’m serious. We’re not leaving.
“Fine.” She looks at me blankly. “I’ll get her.”
On the bureau to her right, rests the baton Rick gave me. She picks it up in one quick movement, swinging it in my direction. I take a step back, but trip, landing hard on my hip just by the front door. I raise my hand to block her next blow, but I’m too late.
The baton lands hard on the top of my head. I close my eyes, seeing nothing but bright blasts of li
ght. I feel another hit, then…
“Just close your eyes,” Amelia whispers.
I do, and the world turns black.
48 Amelia
Now
Many years had passed since that cool summer evening when Caroline was taken, but Amelia could remember each moment with total clarity. Finding Bruce’s body. Finding the empty crib.
What happened after.
The press seemed to stalk her from that moment forward. Amelia had to be careful about what she said. She had to know who she could trust. She believed her own story would be more credible than Sarah’s, which is why she didn’t hesitate to give them her name. More than that, she knew it was her best shot at ever finding Caroline.
She never could have predicted it would take so long.
There had been several times over the years when she thought she had found them. A mother and daughter living in California, celebrating a third birthday. Another time, on vacation, someone swore a woman accompanying a ten-year-old girl was Sarah. And yet, all those were false leads.
Amelia never knew her daughter would be over thirty before she saw her again. Gone was the baby she had so desperately wanted, gone was the little girl she had worked so hard to find. But all wasn’t lost, she realized. Caroline—Marion—now had a daughter of her own. Maybe Amelia’s fate wasn’t yet set. Maybe she still had a shot at having the family she’d always wanted.
And yet, with everything that had changed over the years, the same obstacle remained: Sarah. Although she was called Eileen now. Stupid name.
Amelia couldn’t believe they had lived right under her nose all this time, but she tried not to let the bitterness consume her. Not when she finally had the opportunity to make things right, and even more than that, get revenge.
But she had to get Sarah out of the way. That’s why she didn’t rush to North Bay the minute she learned about Marion’s existence. She had waited long enough, what would another month hurt? Instead, she used her resources to find out as much as she could about the Sams. She had to make sure everything was in place before she tipped off the police, and the information came in handy later when she needed the media to put pressure on Marion.
Before arriving in North Bay, Amelia made sure she had a connection in the jail, someone capable of stabbing an unsuspecting Sarah in her cell. And she had to make sure the guard on duty could be paid to look the other way. Everything worked according to plan, except Sarah survived the attack.
That’s why she had to make a break for Marion when she did. Whether or not Sarah would pull through was out of her control, but none of that would matter if she could win back the daughter stolen from her all those years ago.
And who could forget precious Ava? Yes, the three of them would make a better family than even Amelia could have dreamed. No undependable Bruce. No screw-up Sarah. She knew then, after all the heartache, after all the sacrifice, some things were worth the wait.
49 Marion
Now
Minutes.
I must have only been out for minutes, and yet my entire life might have been ruined in that short amount of time.
I feel drops of water falling on my face and neck. That’s what wakes me. When I open my eyes, I see Evan standing over me.
“Marion, what happened?”
He’s still wearing his jacket from outside, and it is dripping on me. The front door is wide open, letting in powerful gusts of wind.
“Ava.” I move, struggling to stand.
“Tell me what happened.” Evan sounds rushed, afraid.
“Amelia was here,” I say, pulling on his arm to find my balance. “She wants to take Ava.”
Now standing, I dart down the hallway, Evan fast on my heels. Each footstep seems to span its own moment in time. Reality has slowed, like I’m reliving a moment from the past. But it’s not my past, it’s Amelia’s. As I push open the door, look around the room, rush to the crib.
It’s empty.
I fall backward, Evan holding me up.
“She took her,” I say, my voice frantic.
“Amelia took her?”
“I’d put Ava in her crib. Amelia showed up. She said she wanted us to leave with her. When I refused, she knocked me out.”
I push past him, each second that passes feeling too long and dangerous. I rush to the front door, swing it open, expecting to see Amelia’s car has disappeared. I stop in my tracks when I see it is still nudged between two others on the curb. She has not driven away, which means she must have gone somewhere on foot.
And she has taken Ava with her.
“I’m calling the police,” Evan says, the phone already held up to his ear.
The rain is still pouring down in heavy bursts, the night dark except for the random streetlights and squares from bedroom windows.
“She must still be close,” I say, turning my head from one way to the next. “I couldn’t have been out for more than a few minutes.”
Running back into the house, I find Amelia’s keys on the floor.
“That must be why she didn’t leave in the car,” Evan says, then turns his attention back to the telephone. “Yes, I need to report a child abduction. The address is…”
I run to the patio overlooking the beach. The entire area is shrouded in darkness. A chair is flipped on its side. It could have been in reaction to the storm, or this might have been the route Amelia took to get out of the house unseen. I squint, trying to see into the distance, but all I see is blurry blackness.
The ocean and the rain create a cacophony of water around me, drowning out the sound of anything else. And then there’s something. A noise. A cry. It’s Ava, I know it.
“She has her on the beach,” I shout to Evan, jumping over the back gate.
I don’t have time to wait for him. I grab my phone, still in my pocket, and switch on the flashlight. Usually so bright it’s blinding, now it only illuminates a few inches in front of me. I scan it across the ground, my feet sinking deeper into the wet sand with each step. The farther I get from the condo, the more alone I feel, not sure which direction to turn.
Then, another cry. It sounds closer, but the wind whooshing past my face can be misleading. I run in that direction. A few minutes later, I can hear Evan coming up behind me.
“Police are on their way,” he says, using his own phone as a light. “Surely, she wouldn’t take her out here in the middle of this.”
“She has nowhere else to go,” I say, stopping, trying to listen for more cries. The fear inside is overwhelming. I can’t stand for Ava to be out here without me, and I don’t trust Amelia’s mental state.
Another whimper, closer this time.
“Amelia,” I scream, my voice useless against the heavy winds. “Amelia, please. Don’t take Ava. Don’t hurt her.”
My eyes begin to adjust to the darkness. Not far ahead of me, there’s an outline of something on the empty beach. As I approach, I hear another cry. I hold my hand forward, shining the light. It’s them. Amelia is huddled on the sand, holding Ava.
“Don’t come any closer,” she says.
It’s amazing how quickly you’ll obey when someone has your child. I freeze, holding my other hand back, instructing Evan to do the same.
“You don’t want to hurt her,” I say.
“Of course I don’t. All I ever wanted to do is love her. Love you. I would have been a good mother. All I ever wanted was the chance. I finally had it, but he ruined it.”
“Who did?”
“Bruce!” she screams, raising her face. “If he hadn’t made so many mistakes, if he hadn’t messed with those girls, Sarah would have left you with me.”
“If Bruce was dangerous, she had every reason to take me with her.”
She knows I’m right. Her silence confirms it. She wipes her nose with the back of her hand and clears her throat.
“She didn’t kill him, you know.” She rocks back and forth, holding Ava in her arms. “I did.”
I fall to my knees in the sand, s
taring at the horrible sight of this confessed killer holding my child.
“Sarah gave him a good beating. I don’t think he would have survived, especially with that wound on his head, but he was still alive when I came outside after I realized Caroline was gone,” she continues. “He was on the pavement, asking for help. But how could I help him when he’d just cost me everything?”
The question is rhetorical, and I’m too full of fear and disbelief to answer her. I stay completely still, watching her every move. I’m stunned. This crime Mom has been running from her entire life wasn’t entirely her fault. Amelia killed Bruce.
“I covered his mouth and nose with my hands,” Amelia says. “He was already so weak. It didn’t take much force. I didn’t let go until I knew he was gone.”
“You did that because you knew he was dangerous. You did the right thing, Amelia. You made sure he wouldn’t hurt anyone else.”
A burst of red and blue lights spreads across the beach. The police have arrived, although they are still in the condominium parking lot. Amelia sees them, holds Ava tighter. Evan rushes toward her, but I hold out my arm, signaling him to step back.
“You can still do the right thing,” I say. “I know you don’t want to hurt Ava.”
“I didn’t ask for any of this.”
“And neither did we,” I say, the wind blowing hair into my mouth, sticking to my wet cheeks. “Please, don’t take my daughter from me.”
Amelia scrunches her face, falling over on the sand. Ava rolls from her grasp. Without instruction, Evan leaps toward her. He swoops her up, running away from us. There are voices behind us. I see the intermittent blasts of flashlights as officers run to meet us on the beach.
“I’ll stay with you,” I say to her.
Amelia remains in the fetal position, wailing. She has finally given up, released the last of the secrets she’s been keeping all these years.
50 Marion
Now
I’m sitting on the living room sofa with a blanket wrapped around my shoulders. The police have separated us so they can get our individual statements. They have taken Ava to an ambulance to check her vitals. Each second I’m away from her feels like a punishment. Even though I believe she’s safe, this knot in my stomach won’t untangle until I can feel her body against mine. I rock back and forth, the blanket doing little to warm my drenched clothes and hair.
Not My Mother Page 23
