Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 77039 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77039 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“Right.” I swallow again. “Gina.”
“Gina, as an adult, sought psychiatric treatment with Aunt Melanie. Aunt Mel thought they were making progress, but she ended up getting a letter from Gina. It was a suicide letter. Aunt Mel almost gave up being a therapist because she thought she’d missed something.”
“What did she miss?”
“She missed that Gina was suicidal.”
“But Aunt Mel specializes in childhood trauma.”
“Exactly. And she’s the best at what she does, so eventuall—”
“Gina didn’t commit suicide,” I say.
“No, she didn’t. She was taken as an adult. Taken and sold into the trafficking ring. I tried so hard to find her.” Mom chokes back a sob. “But she had died by the time we broke it up.”
“Mom… Oh my God…”
Mom sniffles. “I was devastated, of course. By then I’d met your father, and the two of us had fallen in love. So there was a happy ending. For Dad and me. For Uncle Talon and Aunt Jade. For Uncle Joe and Aunt Mel. For Uncle Bryce and Aunt Marj. And my father and the other two, Tom Simpson and Larry Wade, were dead by that point as well. And so was—we thought at the time—Wendy Madigan.”
“My God, Mom. How? How have you led such a normal life after… After what he tried to do to you?”
“I wouldn’t say I lived a normal life. I lived on the streets, and I was scared to death of men for many years. I didn’t wear makeup, didn’t wear clothes that showed my body. Nothing that might attract a man. Ask your father. When he met me, I pulled my hair back tight and wore mostly masculine clothing and sensible shoes.”
Dad touches her hair. “You were still beautiful.”
“I didn’t want to be. Not until you, Ryan.”
Love passes between them. Pure love.
And that’s the beauty that comes from the horrific past. Love. As inane as it sounds, love does conquer all.
“My father was a horrible man,” Mom says. “A true psychopath, and I wish I didn’t share his genes. I wish I didn’t pass them to you and Gina. But in the end—the very end—he saved my life. And he gave my mother back to me.”
“What?”
“That day. The day I shot Wendy. We all thought she died. When she shot my father, he told me Gina was dead, but he pushed a piece of paper into my hand. The paper had a name on it. Diamond Thornbush—my mother—and an address.
“We drove to a trailer park on the outskirts of Grand Junction. I was frantic. Would she be there? Was this one last hoax by my father? I had no way of knowing, but we had to check it out. We drove up in Ryan’s pickup. The yard was well-kept, and a plastic lawn chair sat outside. The stoop built of rickety wood creaked as I walked up to the door and knocked.”
Mom’s voice becomes hypnotic, and again, I see the events as she tells them.
The door opened, and a woman stood there in capri pants and a worn T-shirt.
A woman I recognized, though her hair was silvery white now, and a few lines marred her pretty face.
“Mom,” was all I said.
Her blue eyes—the same color as my own—widened. “I think I’m seeing a ghost.”
“It’s me. It’s Ruby.”
“It can’t be. He told me you were…”
“I’m here.”
“Your father forced me to leave. He said he could give you a better life. He said… I didn’t believe him, but he threatened both of our lives, and he meant it. I figured the best thing for me to do was disappear and make you a ward of the state. I thought they’d protect you. God, I’ve always regretted that day! How could I give up my baby?” She grabbed me into a hug.
I inhaled. She still smelled the same. Like honeydew melon.
“I’m sorry I didn’t look for you. I was told you were dead.”
“Sweetie, it’s okay. Did they protect you? Did you have a good life?”
I couldn’t bear to lie to her. At least not yet. “I’ve had a good life. And it’s about to get better.” I motioned to Ryan. “This is my fiancé, Ryan Steel.”
“Ms. Thornbush,” he said. “It’s good to meet you.”
“Honey, call me Diamond. Or Didi. Or Mom. Whatever you want.”
“Mom sounds good.” Ryan smiled that killer smile of his.
“That’s right,” I say. “You called her Mom.”
“I didn’t have a mother of my own,” Dad says. “Daphne wasn’t my mother, and Wendy was dead, or so we thought. I never would have called her Mom anyway. Didi was Mom to me until she passed away.”
Mom rises. “I have something for you.” She leaves and returns a few moments later carrying a satin bag. She opens it and pulls out three delicate gold bangle bracelets. “Grandma Didi gave these to me. She said they were for an old soul like herself, and that I’d know the right moment to give them to you.”