Chapter 2 - The Heart of a Child
Ellie was sitting on the edge of her canopy bed, her little school shoes dangling just above the floor. Her backpack, decorated with unicorn patches that Mara had spent hours sewing on, sat zipped beside her. But Ellie wasn't putting it on. She was staring down at her lap, her small hands tightly clasping Mr. Fluff, the worn plush rabbit that Caroline had bought her in the hospital nursery.
“Good morning, bug,” Mara said gently, leaning against the doorframe before stepping inside.
Ellie looked up. Her big hazel eyes—so much like Dominic’s, yet stripped of all his cold calculation—looked swollen, as if she had cried into her pillow long before the sun came up.
“Morning, Mara,” Ellie whispered.
The name felt like a physical slap across Mara’s face. The child had never called her by her first name. Since she was four years old, Mara had been ""Mommy"" or ""Mama."" The casual, deliberate switch to ""Mara"" carried the crushing weight of a child trying desperately to obey an order she didn’t understand.
Mara took a slow breath, walking over to sit beside Ellie on the mattress. “Did you sleep okay, sweetie?”
Ellie nodded half-heartedly, staring intently at the rabbit’s frayed ears. “Daddy told me in the car last night that I have to be careful with words.”
“Did he?” Mara asked softly, fighting the fury rising in her throat.
“He said Grandma Ruth gets very sad when people use words that belong to Mama Caroline,” Ellie explained, her small voice trembling. “He said Mama Caroline is my only Mommy, and you are my bonus grown-up. He said calling you Mommy makes Grandma Ruth think everyone forgot Mama Caroline.” Ellie looked up at Mara, her eyes swimming with fresh tears. “Did I make Grandma Ruth cry because I’m bad?”
Mara gathered the little girl into her arms, pulling her tight against her chest. Ellie immediately buried her face in Mara’s neck, clutching her blouse with tiny, frantic fists.
“Listen to me, Ellie Vale,” Mara said, her voice fiercely steady. “You listen to me very carefully. You did nothing wrong. Not a single thing. You have a heart big enough to love your Mama Caroline in heaven, and love me here on earth. Love doesn't have a limit. It’s not like a cake where if you give a slice to one person, there’s less for someone else.”
“Then why was Daddy’s face so scary?” Ellie sniffled, a wet tear soaking into Mara’s collar. “He looked at me like he was mad. He said it so mean.”
“Daddy is... Daddy is carrying heavy things in his head right now, bug. Things that have nothing to do with you,” Mara whispered, kissing the top of Ellie’s head, smelling the strawberry shampoo they had picked out together at the store. “He thinks he’s fixing things, but he doesn't know how to fix hearts. Only grown-ups make messes this stupid.”
“Can I still call you Mommy when Daddy isn't looking?” Ellie whispered conspiratorially, pulling back slightly.
That single question shattered whatever restraint Mara had left. The idea of this innocent child hiding her affection in the shadows, sneaking love like contraband behind her father's back in her own home, was unacceptable.
“No, sweetheart,” Mara said, wiping Ellie’s damp cheeks with her thumbs. “You shouldn't ever have to hide your love. You should never have to whisper that you love someone because a grown man is afraid of a memory.”
“Are you leaving?” Ellie asked suddenly.
The question caught Mara completely off guard. She froze, looking into Ellie’s knowing eyes. Children possessed a terrifying sixth sense for impending absence.
“Why would you ask that, Ellie?”
“Because when Mommy Caroline went away, she stopped laughing first,” Ellie said quietly, twisting the rabbit’s ear. “And then the house got very quiet. And this morning, you’re not laughing, and the house feels like it’s holding its breath.”
Mara held Ellie’s face in both of her hands. “I love you more than all the stars in the sky, Ellie. No matter what happens, no matter where I am, that will never, ever change. Do you hear me?”
Ellie nodded slowly, though doubt lingered in her eyes.
Downstairs, the honk of Mrs. Higgins’s minivan signaled the arrival of the morning carpool. Mara helped Ellie put on her backpack, walked her down the grand marble staircase, and watched her skip down the front pathway toward the driveway. Before Ellie climbed into the van, she turned back and waved.
Mara waved back, keeping a bright smile on her face until the taillights disappeared beyond the wrought-iron security gates.
May you like
The moment the gates slid shut, Mara let her smile drop. She turned around and walked back into the cavernous, quiet mansion. She looked at the expensive paintings, the pristine furniture, the polished floors that reflected the empty luxury of Dominic Vale’s world. She was the mistress of this estate, yet in the span of twelve hours, Dominic had reduced her to a hired companion who could be gagged whenever the ghost of his past entered the room.
Mara walked up to their master bedroom. She didn't cry. She walked into the vast walk-in closet, dragged out two large leather suitcases from the top shelf, and began taking her clothes off the hangers.
