Page 75 of Where's Molly

I nearly stumble over air as I whip around and begin to pace.

“It’s so nice to hear from you,” I choke out.

“How long have you been going to Emma’s games?”

I frown, a little taken aback by the question.

God, what if she’s calling just to tell me Layla said she doesn’t want to know me? What if she tells me to never contact them again or show my face at any of her games?

I’ll always go to her games but respect their wishes enough to not let them see me. I’ll keep my distance for as long as Layla demands. If it’s forever, I would be okay with watching her grow old from afar—as long as she’s safe.

“I moved back to Montana over four years ago. As soon as I discovered that she was playing, I went to all her games. Every single one.”

Margot is silent for a moment, and then I hear a soft sigh.

“Emma is… she’s interested in talking to you,” she begins, her voice taut with discomfort. “She admitted that she had been feeling a little lost about her early childhood and would like to know about her biological parents. And you, of course. We agreedonly because we feel it would help Emma heal from… from her abandonment issues.”

I close my eyes, feeling as if Margot is standing before me and tearing her claws into my flesh until my heart is exposed, then ripping it out of its useless cavity. No bones could ever protect it from Layla’s hurt.

“I understand,” I whisper. “I will tell her anything she wants to know.”

“And I know who you are. Who she is,” she rushes out, almost as if, if she didn’t get it out she’d combust.

“I see. Then I hope you know that I didn’t give Layla to you because I didn’t want her, but because I had to.”

There’s silence, and it’s only now that I notice Cage has shut off his own hair clippers. It’s quiet—too quiet.

“Emma,” she corrects. “Her name is Emma.”

I bite my lip, not realizing I slipped up.

“I know it is,” I concede softly. “I gave that name to her so no one would find out who she was.”

“Right,” Margot says, her tone curt but not lacking heat. I know this is hard for her as well.

“I appreciate you allowing me to speak to her. At least this once. I… I can’t even begin to express how much she means to me.”

Margot sighs again. “I believe you, Molly. I can’t imagine the things you’ve been through. The things Emma has been through. If I’m being honest, I wasn’t going to allow this when you first approached. But… once I googled you and found out about your story—your kidnapping—I realized there may be a lot more to both of your stories than I was giving credit for. In my head, I built you up as some drug-addict mother who left her kid on somerandom stranger’s doorstep. I used to thank God every night that she was left with us and not someone who would’ve hurt her. I remember you said that you chose us. Is that true?”

“I did,” I answer. “It’s a little creepy when I say it out loud, but I watched your family for months. I couldn’t leave her with just anyone, but I didn’t trust the system, and I wanted her to go to a family that I knew would keep her and love her.”

“Well, you chose correctly,” Margot says. “So I will pay you the same respect and let you see her. But know that the moment Emma says she’s done, you willneversee her again. Is that understood? She is—”

“Your daughter,” I assure. “And I understand. I will respect her wishes. Always, Margot.”

She releases a heavy exhale, as if a small weight has been lifted from her shoulders.

“Okay. I will text you a date and time.”

“Thank you,” I breathe. The phone clicks off, and immediately, tears spring to my eyes and spill over in rivers as if they were poised at my lash line, waiting to be released.

“What happened?” Cage asks, rushing over to me and cupping my face between his palms. Thankfully, he had the foresight to take off his rubber gloves, even though his body is still covered in blood from extracting their teeth.

His eyes dart between mine, concern etched into his slanted brows.

“She’s going to let me see Layla,” I croak, the end of my declaration broken by a hiccup.

“Come here, baby,” Cage mumbles, ushering me into his arms. I keep my chin tilted up and away from his chest, while he bows his forehead to rest on my shoulder, hugging me tightly.

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