Chapter 17 - The Other BirthdayMia woke to the smell of toast.
For a moment, she thought she was at home.
Then she opened her eyes.
The ceiling was unfamiliar.
The curtains were blue instead of pink.
And the little rabbit lying beside her was wrong.
Its ears were too stiff.
Its eyes were too shiny.
She pushed it away.
“I want Mr. Buttons.”
A woman entered carrying a tray.
Patricia Cole.
She was fifty-two, with short brown hair and a careful smile.
“Good morning, sweetheart.”
Mia sat up.
“Where's Mommy?”
Patricia placed the tray on the table.
“Your grandmother said your mommy needs some quiet time.”
Mia stared at her.
“She said that yesterday.”
“I know.”
“Can I call her?”
“Not yet.”
“Why?”
Patricia looked away.
Mia had asked the same question every hour.
At first, Patricia had answered confidently.
Then she began offering excuses.
Now she couldn't meet the child's eyes.
“Your grandmother will explain everything.”
Mia pulled the blanket around her knees.
“I don't want another grandma.”
Patricia looked at her.
“What do you mean?”
“Grandma Evelyn said she's going to make everything better. But I just want Mommy.”
Patricia sat down.
“Mia, you're safe here.”
The child considered that.
Then she asked, “If I'm safe, why can't I leave?”
Patricia had no answer.
Mia looked toward the window.
A red lighthouse was visible on a building across the street.
She had been counting the cars that passed beneath it.
One red car.
Two white trucks.
Three blue cars.
She was trying to remember what her kindergarten teacher had said about being lost.
Find a trusted grown-up.
Tell them your name.
Tell them where you belong.
But Patricia wouldn't let her go outside.
And the other man who visited the building frightened her.
He wore an expensive coat and talked angrily on the phone.
Mia had heard him say Grandma Evelyn's name.
She didn't like the way his voice sounded.
“Can we have my birthday cake?” Mia asked.
Patricia looked surprised.
“Cake?”
“I didn't get any.”
“Oh, sweetheart.”
“My mommy made one with butterflies.”
Patricia lowered her gaze.
Mia continued.
“She said I could make a wish before I blew out the candles.”
Patricia stared at the untouched toast.
“What would you wish for?”
Mia answered immediately.
“Mommy.”
A long silence followed.
Then Patricia stood.
She walked to the door.
“Finish your breakfast.”
Mia watched her leave.
She heard Patricia speaking quietly in the hallway.
“No,” Patricia said. “This has gone too far.”
A man's voice answered sharply.
Mia couldn't understand his words.
Patricia spoke again.
“She's five years old, Andrew.”
The man's response was louder.
Mia pulled the blanket over her head.
A door slammed.
Footsteps moved away.
Then Patricia returned.
Her eyes were red.
“Mia,” she whispered, “can you tell me your mommy's phone number?”
Mia shook her head.
“I don't remember all of it.”
“That's okay.”
The little girl thought hard.
“I know Daddy's name.”
“I know his name, too.”
“And I know where my school is.”
Patricia crouched.
“Tell me.”
Mia began describing the school, the playground, and the painted butterfly on the classroom door.
Patricia listened carefully.
Then she reached into her pocket.
She removed a small folded paper.
“I'm going to write something down.”
Mia watched.
“Are you helping me go home?”
Patricia stopped writing.
For the first time since Mia had met her, the woman's voice broke.
“Yes, sweetheart.”
Then a car door slammed outside.
Patricia hurried toward the window.
A black SUV had pulled into the parking area.
Andrew Mercer stepped out.
May you like
And he wasn't alone.
Evelyn had arrived.
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