Page 80 of The Making of Marnie Jones

Marnie chuckled. “Yet you got your way.”

Mrs. Grant’s expression was odd yet warm. “I did. Well, is there anything in the room you desire? I can have it packed up and sent to you.”

She shook her head, popping a grape from the bowl in her mouth. “There's nothing I'm emotionally attached to. I have my own home now.” Clarity. She’d moved beyond her childhood home, instead making her way in the world on her own.

“How is your home? Do you like it?”

“I’ve tried to make it mine.”Good enough?

“What's the real issue?”

She met the older woman's penetrating gaze. “I wish I had photos. One of me as a child, even a few of my father.”

Without a word, Mrs. Grant moved to a drawer and pulled out an album. She handed it to Marnie. “This is yours.”

“I've never seen it before.”

“No, I mean I made it for you. I've kept it here for you should you ever want it.”

Marnie opened the cover and came face-to-face with a photo of a beautiful baby. She reached out to touch it, pulling her hand back at the last moment. “Is this me?”

“Of course.” Mrs. Grant eyed her speculatively. “Look.”

Taking the album over to the kitchen table, she sat, and Mrs. Grant joined her. “You made this for me?”

“I did.” She pointed to the book. “I expect you to take it with you when you leave.”

“What about you?” The book was beautiful, clearly made with love and attention. As much as she wanted it, it didn’t seem right to take it away from the person who’d put so much work into it.

“The wonders of the digital age. I scanned the entire album and have it on a CD. Amazing, isn't it?” She leaned over and flipped the page. “This is your parents’ wedding photo.”

Marnie’s chest constricted. She’d never seen a picture of her mother before and had no memory of the woman. Emotion threatened to overwhelm, but she quickly checked herself. “She was stunning. Why are there no pictures of her in the house? “

“I can't say for sure, but I had the impression your father loved her deeply and missed her terribly. Truth be told, it was never my place to ask.”

Olivia entered the room.

She turned her attention to the young woman. “Are you okay?”

Olivia’s brow furrowed, as if she needed to consider the answer. Finally, she said, “I talked to Uncle Jake. He said to give you his apologies again.”

“What did he say to you?”

“He explained the reporter found out about my hospital stay and threatened to go public with it.” Olivia's voice wavered. “Uncle Jake said he was sorry. He said he threatened to quit, but it wouldn’t have made any difference. They suspended him, which I don’t think is fair. Oh, and he said he lost control and hit that Phil guy. He didn't seem to be sorry about that part, and apparently Phil is going to Hawaii for a couple of weeks.”

The desire to cheer overwhelmed Marnie, but it’d be inappropriate. Well, maybe a small cheer. And Jake hadn't mentioned the suspension last night, so maybe that’d happened this morning.

“He also said the police have a lead on my mother's location.” Olivia sounded confused as she continued. “He said he’d call if they find her.” Her shimmering eyes held uncertainty.

“What is it, Olivia?”

“Uncle Jake said I can't go back to the condo. He said he can't protect me there. He said I might have to go away.”

Marnie was fairly certain those were not the words he’d used. What was clear, was the effect of whatever words he had used. She stood and opened her arms, bracing herself as Olivia launched forward into her embrace. Holding on for all she was worth, she tried to offer comfort to a young woman who was powerless in this situation.

“I'm scared.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know.” She hadn’t been this helpless since the end of her captivity. For the first time in her life, she was responsible for someone else's well-being.

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