Chapter 11
Victoria was found at a private birthing suite outside Raleigh.
The facility looked like a spa.
White walls.
Soft music.
Locked doors.
Agents breached at dawn.
I watched through a secure feed from the hospital because my body had finally won one argument.
Victoria was alive.
Still pregnant.
Screaming for her mother.
Marianne Vale was beside me when the news came.
Her hands flew to her mouth.
“My baby.”
Her baby.
The woman in Julian’s coat.
The woman who laughed while Eleanor slapped me.
Still someone’s stolen child.
They arrested Dr. Vale in the operating suite.
He was preparing paperwork declaring Victoria medically incompetent due to distress.
Eleanor was not there.
Of course.
She always left others holding the blade.
Victoria asked to see me.
I almost said no.
Then I thought of Hazel.
If one day my daughter begged for mercy from a woman she had wronged, I hoped that woman would be better than Eleanor.
So I agreed.
Victoria entered my room under guard, wrapped in a hospital robe, face swollen from crying.
“I didn’t know she took me from my mother,” she said.
I watched her.
“But you knew Julian was married.”
“Yes.”
“You knew I had just given birth.”
She sobbed.
“Yes.”
“You laughed.”
Her whole body shook.
“I’m sorry.”
I believed she was.
I also knew sorry was not repayment.
“Tell the truth,” I said.
“What?”
“To police. To prosecutors. To your mother. To yourself.”
She nodded.
Then she looked at Hazel.
“I hope she never meets anyone like me.”
May you like
I looked at my daughter.
“She won’t. I’m her mother.”
