Chapter 2 - Veronica Knew Her Name
“Robert.”
Veronica's voice was barely audible.
I folded the note.
“Who is this child?”
“I don't know.”
Maisie looked directly at her.
“Yes, you do.”
Veronica's expression changed.
Only for a second.
But I saw it.
Fear.
Not confusion.
Maisie backed away from her.
I immediately stepped between them.
“Maisie, is that your name?”
She nodded.
“Maisie Reed.”
The room seemed to tilt.
Reed.
My surname.
“Who told you to come here?”
“Nobody.”
“Where's your mother?”
Her face tightened.
“I don't know.”
Veronica grabbed my arm.
“Robert, this is obviously some kind of scam.”
I looked at her hand until she removed it.
“How did she know your name?”
“I didn't.”
“She said you did.”
“She’s seven.”
“As opposed to you?”
That landed harder than I intended.
Veronica's eyes narrowed.
The engagement dinner was over.
I asked the hotel manager to arrange a quiet private room and food for Maisie.
She ate so quickly I had to ask her to slow down.
She apologized.
That broke something in me.
No seven-year-old should apologize for being hungry.
I sat across from her.
“Tell me about your mom.”
“Her name was Emily.”
Was.
Not is.
I heard it.
“When did you last see her?”
Maisie stopped chewing.
“Three days ago.”
“What happened?”
“She told me to go to Aunt June's house.”
“Who's Aunt June?”
“My mom's friend.”
“And where is she?”
Maisie looked down.
“She wasn't there anymore.”
I felt my chest tighten.
“Where have you slept?”
“Bus station. Church steps. Yesterday a lady let me sleep in her car.”
Veronica stood by the window.
“This is insane. Call child services and let professionals handle it.”
Maisie flinched at her voice.
I noticed.
“Do you know Veronica?”
Maisie whispered:
“Mom called her the champagne lady.”
Veronica went still.
I turned toward her.
My daughter had apparently been alive for decades.
She had raised a child.
She had warned that child about the woman I planned to marry.
And Veronica had never told me any of it.
May you like
The central question was no longer whether Emily survived.
It was why everyone had allowed me to believe she hadn't.
