Page 39 of Silent Night with Massimo

I creep slowly forward, my gun lifted, aimed high, ready for anything.

Chapter 17

Vera

Iwalk cautiously into the cubicle and immediately my entire body is as cold as ice.

Staring down at a little boy, covered in filth, barefoot, huddled in the corner of the cubicle.

My heart shatters.

Tears stream down my cheeks at the sight of him.

I know right away that he is my son.

His bright green eyes are staring up at me. The same color as mine. His dark black hair is the same as Massimo's. His lips, nose, and jaw - he looks like the perfect mix between his father and me.

I swallow hard, forcing the tears back. He can't see my pain. Right now, it's not about me. I need him to feel safe.

Crouching low, still keeping some distance between us, I speak softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

"It's okay. I won't hurt you. I've come to take you home."

The words stick in my throat, my chest tightening as emotion threatens to overwhelm me. All I want to do is rush forward, wrap my arms around him, and promise him that I'll protect him forever. But he's so terrified, his little body pressed deeper into the corner, scooting further away from me. The sight breaks my heart.

"Hey, it's ok. I promise you. It's all going to be ok."

I shift a little closer.

We are not safe here.

"Honey, do you know who I am?"

He shakes his head. His little fists are clenched tight in front of his chest.

"It's ok. It's ok if you don't know. But I am someone who cares very deeply for you."

"Who - who are you?" he stammers, barely audible.

"I'm your mother." I sigh softly. Knowing that this information is very likely to overwhelm him.

"I hate you." He screams, kicking at the air, kicking at me.

"What?" I gasp. "Wait - no - please stop - "

I rush forward, he's kicking at the walls and he's going to hurt himself.

"Stop," I beg, wrapping my arms tightly around his thin, frail body. I hold him tightly against my chest, rocking back and forth slowly. He keeps trying to fight me, pushing me away, clawing at me.

I grab his wrists and restrain him as best I can.

"I am not going to hurt you. I want to take you home." I say again, gently.

"I don't want to go home with you. You gave me away. You didn't want me."

"That's not true." I cry out, tears falling down my cheeks. "That's not true. I have been looking for you. I've been searching for you. Someone stole you from me." I try to make him understand.

"I don't believe you." He is crying too, sobbing, but he's stopped fighting. He's just limp in my arms.

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