Authors: Mia Sheridan
Felix had rescued me, given me a home, a purpose, and a safe place to grieve. I'd never divulged to him or Marissa where I'd come from, not even when I saw news coverage about Acadia, where no one had come out alive. But they knew I was emotionally damaged, and they gave me the space I needed to work through some of it in my mind, in my own time. And though much of the last three years had passed in a daze of pain and longing, because of Felix and Marissa, there had been comfort, too.
And he'd given me back my music, and the pride that my sweet little student now loved the piano as much as I did. She had helped me grasp the hope I could still find small pieces of happiness in this lifetime. Not many, perhaps. And they were fleeting. But they were there—and they helped me survive.
Once I got a handle on my tears, I pulled the second picture out of the folder and looked down at the handsome blond man. I tilted my head, trying to recall his face, and although there was a small spark of recognition, I had nowhere near the emotional response I'd felt when I looked at my mother's photo.
I set it down and started looking through the rest of the paperwork. It all corroborated what Felix had written in his letter, although the scandal my father had been involved in wasn't spelled out.
At the bottom of the pile lay the photo from the missing children's database. I stared at it for long minutes, my heartbeat speeding up. It was me, no question. Eden Everson. My name was Eden Everson.
Is.
Is Eden Everson. "My name is Eden Everson," I whispered. The name felt foreign on my tongue.
I was a missing child. I had been stolen. Shock and grief hit me in the chest.
Hector had lied to me. Hector had kidnapped me. All those years
. . .
all a lie.
I sat there for a minute simply staring at the wall and letting the truth sink in.
Finally, I looked back at the folder on my bed. The last page at the back was an address in the Hyde Park section of Cincinnati. I folded it up and reached for my purse, putting it inside.
When I went to put all the papers back in the envelope, I felt something hard at the bottom and opened it wide, tilting it upside down. The locket I'd brought to Felix's shop three years ago fell out. I let out a small breath and brought it to my chest, holding it tightly against me.
Oh, Felix. I'll miss you forever.
I startled when there was a knock on my door. "Come in." The door opened and Marissa peeked inside.
"I just wanted to let you know I'm home, dear."
"Thank you, Marissa." I licked my dry lips. "Marissa, can I ask you something?"
Marissa came inside and sat on the end of my bed. "Have you been crying?" she asked gently.
I nodded my head. "A little, yes. I'm okay. Felix, he wrote me a letter and he
. . . did you know he was investigating my past, where I came from?"
Marissa looked surprised. "No." She shook her head. "Did you ask him to?"
"No
. . . I
. . . I'm not upset about it, in fact, he found my parents."
A look of surprise came over Marissa's face. "Your parents? I thought you said your parents were dead."
I nodded, frowning slightly. "I thought they were. They're not. Or at least, my mother isn't." I glanced down at the folder again.
"What are you going to do?"
"I think I'm going to go to her," I said.
I think.
Marissa studied me for a few seconds but didn't ask more questions. It was her way. I knew she'd never pry unless I indicated I was ready to speak more on a subject. "You know I wish I could offer for you to stay here
. . ." Her face filled with regret.
"I know," I interrupted. "I have some money now, though, enough to rent a room for myself." I met her kind eyes. "I know you'd let me stay here if it belonged to you." I grabbed her hand in mine and squeezed it.
Her eyes filled with more sadness. I knew she'd miss me as much as I'd miss her. "Have you found an apartment yet?"
"I've checked out a couple. I just need to decide on one." They were all small and run-down. I couldn't afford much, but it would be mine.
Marissa nodded. "You just let me know when you're ready."
"I will." Marissa was going to rent my new place in her name since I still didn't have identification.
Not yet anyway.
A world of possibilities swam in front of my eyes and I could hardly put them all in order.
I have a name.
Marissa looked at me with concern. "Eden…" She brought her lips together, blinking tears from her eyes. "Three years ago when you first came here, you asked me if Felix would let you go out if you wanted to."
I took a deep breath and studied my fingernails. When I met her eyes, I said, "Yes. I remember."
She nodded. "Felix would have never prevented you from doing anything you wanted to do. But it seems
. . . well, it seems that you've held
yourself
captive here since then, rarely ever going out, holing yourself up in your room much of the time." Her kind eyes were filled with sympathy. "I just hope you'll see this change not only tinged with sadness, but as an opportunity to start living, truly living. I have so much faith in you.
Felix
had so much faith in you."
My heart squeezed tightly. I wondered if I was ready for that. I wondered if I'd
ever
be ready for that. I nodded at Marissa, and smiled at her. "I'll try," I said.
She nodded back at me, offering a small, sad smile.
I tilted my head. "Will you tell me about him?" I asked. I had always wanted to know what made Felix's eyes fill with that far-off sadness he allowed through when he thought no one noticed. I wondered what had happened between him and his children.
Marissa studied me for a minute. "You remind me of her in some ways. Only you have a strength she never did."
"Her?" I asked, meeting her eyes.
Marissa looked out the window, her eyes going misty. "Lillian, Felix's wife."
I tilted my head. I'd seen her picture in the house, but no one had ever talked about her.
She was quiet for several moments and I thought she might not answer. But then, "Felix's parents were immigrants. They ingrained in him a very strong work ethic. Work came first. Supporting your family came first." She paused for a second, obviously remembering. "When he married Lillian, I immediately noticed she was a delicate girl, sweet, but always in need of reassurance. She lit up under Felix's attention. And she dimmed when he wasn't around. And he often
. . . wasn't around." She pursed her lips and paused.
"Lillian made it known to Felix she felt ignored, I suppose. I heard their fights, her tears. But, for Felix at the time, work came first. His business was growing, a big success and that's what he nourished. That's what he fed. Lillian withered. So many times, I stood with her as she looked out the window when he'd promised to be home for dinner
. . . her birthday, their anniversary. Their children grew, began having their own lives as well and Lillian, her loneliness grew as well. And then the diagnosis came. She had cancer. By the time they found it, she didn't have much time left. Seemingly, she was here one minute and gone the next." She shook her head, tears springing to her eyes.
"Oh no," I whispered. "I didn't know."
"He never talked about it." She turned to me. "The thing is, after that, he changed. Work wasn't his focus as much anymore. He devoted time to his family." She shrugged. "Of course, some things happen too late. His children harbored resentment. They weren't willing to forgive. Felix
. . . he never quite forgave himself either." She grasped my hands in hers. "When you came along, he saw it as a second chance to nourish a wounded heart." She shook her head. "Of course, he never said that, but I
. . . I saw it. You saved him, too, Eden."
I wiped at a tear that was making its way slowly down my cheek. "He was a good man," I said softly.
Marissa nodded. "Yes." She stared off into space and then breathed out on a small smile. "Isn't it funny how we're all just bouncing around in this crazy world, our own stories, our own hurts, all weaving together, changing outcomes, sometimes good, sometimes bad? Well," she patted my knee, "I'd like to think your story and Felix's story came together for a reason and you each healed a little because of the other."
I nodded. "Yes," I said, trying not to choke up. "I don't know where I'd be without him. I don't know where I'd be without
you.
" I smiled at Marissa and wiped away the last of my tears.
Marissa smiled back warmly at me and then squeezed me tight and stood up. After she'd closed my door behind her, I fell back on the bed thinking of what she had said about our varied stories and how we were always affecting other lives—every moment of every day—whether we meant to or not. I closed my eyes and pictured people walking around trailing bright white light behind, some of those lights meeting, tangling, changing colors as they combined. And even in my mind, it was achingly beautiful.
Eden
I stood in front of the ornate, black door pulling air into my lungs and letting it out slowly. I was trembling slightly, my fists clenched at my sides.
What if Felix was wrong? What if he was right, but she rejects me?
What if?
I hadn't even told Marissa my plans for that day. I'd taken the bus and walked the rest of the way to the address Felix had left for me. I'd felt like I needed to do this on my own, and if I changed my mind, only I'd know.
I stood there, staring at the brass lion's head knocker, trying to talk myself into using it. It looked intimidating in and of itself, never mind the fact that I was already shaking like a leaf, fear pulsing through my blood. I took a deep breath and used the knocker to rap twice. As I waited, I looked over my shoulder, down the long set of stairs leading to the street. This area of Cincinnati was filled with elegant, older homes, the yards lush, the trees huge and ancient, all with stories to be told. I took another deep breath and tensed my shoulders as I heard footsteps coming toward the door.
It swung open and she stood there, my mother. I knew her immediately. Not because I recognized anything in her face exactly, well, except my own, but because the
feeling
that swept over me was the same sensation I’d felt when I tried to recall her for the past fourteen years.
I started trembling even more.
Once I had belonged to someone. Once I had belonged to her.
I blinked at her, just taking her in. She was a little taller than I was, probably five foot five or so and her blonde hair was cut into a straight bob that ended right at her jawline. She was wearing a pair of darker jeans with a white sweater.
She was real. She was alive
—standing right in front of me. Emotions slammed into me, too many to investigate.
She cocked her head, a small frown coming to her face. Her mouth opened and then closed as she took me in. "I'm sorry
. . . how can I
. . .?" She paused and blinked at me. "Do I
know
you?"
"I'm Eden," I said, so softly I wasn't sure I had actually spoken. "I think I'm your daughter," I squeaked out.
The woman's eyes,
my mother's eyes
, widened and she took a step back, bringing her hand to her chest. "Molly," she called, her voice breaking, turning her head slightly to someone who must be inside. "Oh, Molly
. . ." And then she swayed as a young, blonde woman ran up behind her, catching her in her arms as my mother fell backward.
"Oh my God," the girl named Molly cried out. "Carolyn!"
I rushed in and helped Molly lead Carolyn to the couch in the large family room right off the foyer.
"I'm so sorry," I murmured, bringing Carolyn's feet up on the couch. "I didn't do that in a very sensitive way. God! So stupid, Eden. I was just so
. . . I didn't think." I had prepared myself for this, at least as much as I could. She hadn't had any warning whatsoever.
I straightened myself and looked down worriedly at Carolyn who was lying on the couch. Her eyes now open, she looked up at me with shock on her face.
"Holy shit," the pretty girl next to me murmured. I looked over at her to see her staring at me. "You can't be," she said, and then shook her head slightly as if she was attempting to wake up. "What's happening here?"
I took a deep breath. "Should we get her a cool washcloth or something?" I asked, nodding down at Carolyn.
Molly blinked and then looked down as if just remembering Carolyn was there. "Oh, right, um, sure. I'll be right back."
Once Molly had left the room, I sat down on the couch next to Carolyn and I took her hands in mine. She was still staring at me, her large, blue eyes wide, her mouth parted in shock. I took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," I whispered.
Her hands gripped mine and a tear rolled slowly down her cheek. Her chest rose and fell in quick inhales of breath and her mouth opened and closed, but no words came. "I know," I said softly, squeezing her hands back. "It's okay, I know."