~ oOo ~
Ok, I'm sorry, I suck *hides face from incoming rotten fruit*
My weekend away at Crufts (which was amazing by the way,
thank you to those of you that asked! messed with my entire
week, and before I knew it Wednesday had arrived and I still
hadn't posted this chapter - which was actually written and ready
on Monday afternoon.
Because of my ridiculously hectic week this chapter didn't make it
to SunflowerFran, so all mistakes are mine.
So, yeah, I'm an utter fail. Please forgive me for not replying to
all your wonderful reviews! I ran out of time, and I figured you'd
rather a chapter than a reply.
I'm loving all of the wonderful feedback and messages you've been
sending, so please keep them coming, it truly does mean a lot!
Anyway, I'll let you dig in.
Happy Hump Day, everyone! You're halfway there :)
~ oOo ~
Summary: When two little girls were allowed to walk
home from school one bright spring day nobody could've
predicted the events that followed. The way two families
were torn apart by the vendetta of a deranged man.
Nearly twelve years on, we'll watch as the two girls stolen
away from their homes at eight years old fight to take
back their lives. If only it were as simple as escaping. AU
Pinky Promises
Chapter Twelve
The ominous ticking of the cracked clock hanging lopsidedly on the wall of the living area was the only noise in the house. Silence stretched the tense atmosphere until it was so taut it was liable to snap, tearing the fragile blonde in the corner apart in the process.
Rosalie, Peter, and Riley were outside in the concrete courtyard, Agent Matthews standing guard at the front door as usual while his colleague, Agent Willows, poured coffees in the kitchen.
In the living area Megan sat on a worn stool, ever-gentle eyes trained on Scarlett. She cowered in a wingback chair, hair un-brushed in a loose ponytail, eyes wide but bloodshot as a result of her lack of sleep. She'd managed a meagre few hours after her nightmare, but even those minutes were plagued by nightmares teasing the edge of her subconscious. Dressed in the same purple hoodie and jogging bottoms as she had been the day before, and hunched in on herself the way she was, Scarlett looked tiny. More like a child than the adult she was. The sight made Megan's heart ache, especially when she saw the way Marley routinely glanced over with a knot between her tiny brow, obviously seeing the pain in her mother's posture and behavior.
Megan was positive only Edward's presence beside her on the floor was keeping her from leaping into Scarlett's arms. Him, and the portable DVD player set to her new favorite show in her lap.
"Let me get this straight…" Charlie growled from his spot, perched on the edge of the sofa. "I've just gotten my daughter back, and now you want to take her away again and stick her in a hospital?"
"Nobody is taking anyone away, Mr. Swan. Your daughter desperately needs medical attention, if only to diagnose whatever it is making her so sick."
Charlie couldn't argue, having seen for himself more than once how sick Scarlett had been. As a child she'd had sick bugs, of course, but it was nothing like she had been in the past few days. He may not like it, but his instincts to want Scarlett healthy and well were overriding any motivation he had to argue. He didn't want her to leave his sight at all, of course he didn't, but he wanted her healthy. He wanted his daughter to have everything. And that included her health, her well-being. It took everything to stop himself from yelling and throwing anything he could get his hands on when Megan continued, informing him that she'd made the necessary arrangements with Riley for Scarlett's transport.
"I just feel that a doctor needs to look Scarlett over, Mr. Swan, at least to discount anything sinister. She's clearly not well, and that head wound definitely needs a once-over. She should have gone to the hospital right away, Rosalie too. And Marley…well, I doubt that she's ever seen a doctor in her life."
"She hasn't." Scarlett supplied. She raised her face from her arms, staring at her daughter as she continued, "she's never seen a doctor, a dentist, nobody but us and the men on the ranch."
Glancing at each other, Charlie and Megan shared similar thoughts.
This could be the opening we were hoping for…
Everybody had tried to get information about Garrett Smith from the girls, but as soon as his name was mentioned they just shut off. It was like a switch was pressed, and there was no switching it back. They had to reset on their own, and nobody wanted to push them too far. They needed the information, sure, but Riley and Megan had agreed it wasn't worth sending any of the girls into full-blown meltdowns. There were still agents on the ground hunting for Smith, and all the witnessed had been interviewed. Including the woman from the motel, of course. Her description and subsequent police sketch of the arsonist had matched Garrett almost to a 'T', the only exception being the ponytail but it wasn't too out there to assume that he'd had other priorities besides getting his hair cut into its usual medium-length style.
"Men? You mean the hired ranch hands?" Megan asked.
Scarlett nodded, with a little sigh Megan couldn't decipher. "I asked for a doctor for her, once, when she was a baby. Eight-months-old, maybe? She had this awful cold…"
Edward, Charlie, and Megan watched as the memories seemed to engulf Scarlett, her body curling in tighter on itself. She shivered. "It was freezing. We had an early winter, and we all got sick. But Marley…she was so tiny still and she just seemed to be ill forever. He wouldn't let us get a doctor out but we couldn't get away from the ranch because of the snow, so we just had to make do with what we had. She got better eventually, obviously, but…I don't know. She struggles during the winter, or when we have a particularly cold day. I always wonder if it's because of that."
As Megan assured Scarlett she did the best job possible, given the circumstances, Scarlett belatedly realized she had a stronger accent than Riley's with a distinctly Texan twang, like Emmett's.
"Emmett…" She whispered the name so softly that she didn't think anybody had heard her.
Marley obviously did, though.
Her head popped up, eyes darting around the room as a tiny smile tugged her lips upwards and outwards. She looked hopefully to her mother, who gave her a small, regretful frown.
"Sorry, baby girl, Emmett isn't here. I was just thinking about him."
Disappointed, but easily distracted by some Graham crackers and her show, Marley left the subject alone. Megan, however, had no plans of the sort.
"The transport to the hospital is pulling around," Riley interrupted as Megan began to ask who Emmett was, wondering if he could be the missing piece of the Marley puzzle.
Riley strode into the room with Peter and Rosalie at his sides, a grimace on his face. "Are we ready?"
Charlie and Scarlett shared a look. The latter sighed, reaching up to brush her fingertips across the band aid on her head. She'd been changing it every couple of hours, the skin around the wound bright red and sore to the touch, still. It should have healed by now, or at least started the process. And as for the sickness…she wasn't opposed to something to help with that. She hadn't experienced nausea like it since her pregnancy with Marley.
"All right," Charlie sighed, the misery written all over his posture as he stood and helped Scarlett to her feet.
Curious of the sudden movement, Marley scampered to her feet and climbed onto Edward, patting his face to get his attention as Scarlett and Rosalie made their way upstairs to fetch some clothes. He smiled, but it was tinged with a sadness he couldn't explain.
"Scarlett—er, Mommy and Rosalie are just going upstairs, they'll be right back. Then we're all going on a little trip, ok?"
Marley frowned. Edward hated to see the look on her face. He'd grown attached to her sweet smiles, and lived to see them.
"We're going to the hospital, to see a doctor that will help make Mommy better."
It was clear Marley knew what he meant, because her face brightened and she reached up to touch his head in the same place Scarlett's wound was covered by a stark white dressing. If she didn't have the words, she definitely had the understanding.
"That's right, little sweet."
They both turned at the sound of footsteps, Marley reaching for Scarlett when she made it to the bottom step. She took her daughter willingly, curling her into her chest as she sat contently on her hip, face snuggled into the crook of her mother's neck.
~ oOo ~
Within ten minutes they were all in the black SUV synonymous with the FBI, and by the time they arrived at the hospital an hour later they'd had to pull over three times for Scarlett to empty her stomach of its already-meagre contents. FBI agents escorted the group through a back entrance up to the private ward where they had pre-arranged for the girls to stay, a handful of agents waiting in plain clothes to ensure their privacy wouldn't be breached.
It didn't take long to get Scarlett and Rosalie changed into comfy clothes that allowed the nurses and doctors to do what they needed to, and both girls found themselves overwhelmed by the unfamiliar people, surroundings, and noises. It had been a long time since they'd been in a hospital, and although they'd remembered it to be a safe place in their twelve-year-old memories, it was too formal, too sterile, for them to relax.
Charlie and Peter found it all to be too much, seeing their daughters folded in hospital beds pushed close to one another, watching them flinch every time a nurse entered the room with clicking of their shoes, or doctors making their eyes dampen further with every test they needed to run, every needle they used. It was all necessary, but it wasn't pleasant for either of them to watch. Megan had eventually shooed them from the room when Marley and Rosalie fell asleep tucked close to one another in Rosalie's bed, the day too overpowering despite it not even being noon.
Only one remained, watching over the girls silently from a chair in the corner by the window.
Quiet sniffles drew his attention away from the view.
"Hey, hey now, you're ok. What's wrong?"
Edward moved to perch on the edge of Scarlett's bed, reaching out hesitantly for her hand. He smiled gently when she flipped it over, gripping his fingers hard when he moved them the rest of the way and clasped her much smaller hand within his.
She sniffled, lashes wet as she blinked owlishly at him. In this setting she appeared so pale, so fragile. "I never thought…I never thought we'd get here, that's all."
"Well, you're here. Make the most of it. As much jelly and ice cream as your heart desires," Edward said with a wink.
Scarlett smiled despite herself, squeezing his fingers in thanks before letting go and running her hands through her hair. It hadn't been brushed for two or three days, she couldn't remember, and the tangles hurt when she tried to brush through them.
"You want me to help? I used to be good at that."
Scarlett sighed, nodding in defeat. She remembered Edward sitting through hours of Archie messing with her hair when they were younger, when Charlie broke his wrist on a building sight. She was around seven, meaning Edward would have been thirteen or so, but he'd wound up becoming quite the stylist by the time he left for Italy at the end of that summer. His skills even surpassed Archie's – not that Scarlett ever admitted it.
"Where's your brush?"
"Over there, on the table-thing."
Returning with brush in hand, Edward smiled and patted the bed. "All right, spin a bit. I can't get at your head from this angle."
It's Edward. It's just Edward, Scarlett reminded herself as she twisted on the bed, offering him her back. It felt unnatural to turn her back on a man. Foolish. But it was just Edward, and he'd never hurt her. In fact he was often the one to pull her from nightmares and stop the hurt, so she shoved down the fear bubbling within her stomach and forced herself to breathe as he started at the tips of her hair and laboriously combed through the snarls in her blonde mane.
The entire process was relaxing, and by the time he'd reached her crown Scarlett's eyes were half-lidded, and she was barely holding herself upright. Soothed by Edward's rhythmic, gentle motions, Scarlett allowed herself to slump a little, but she froze when it made her lower back come into contact with his knee, folded up on the bed behind her.
Calmly, he adjusted his position and gave her a soft pat to the head. "All done. Go on, get comfy and have a nap. I'll leave you to—"
"No!" Her outburst startled even Scarlett. She'd twisted to face him, her eyes wide and pleading despite the sleep lurking within their azure depths. "No, please, don't go. Will you stay? Just until I'm asleep?"
Edward recalled the night before, when he'd fallen asleep with her curled against his side. He'd tried to disentangle himself from her grasp a few times, but it only made her groan and toss, so he'd remained even though he felt a little awkward doing so because he wanted her to get some much-needed rest. He'd thought it had helped, but then she'd been lethargic and virtually unresponsive for much of the morning. She admitted nightmares had haunted her, though not as badly as usual. Megan told him that she suspected his presence was the cause of her more peaceful night. She'd surmised, from Scarlett's behavior around Edward in particular, that she related her safety to his presence, most likely as a result of him being the one to carry her from the flames of the motel.
Edward had resigned himself to helping in any way he could. If that meant helping Scarlett overcome her nightmares, so be it.
"I'll stay, don't worry. Get comfy and have a nap. You'll feel better after."
It was easy to see the relief flooding Scarlett's face as she relaxed infinitesimally as she turned, leaning back against the pillows. She cast a longing look over at Rosalie and Marley, their arms entwined, Marley's hand twisted into the fabric of Rosalie's scrub top. Mister Eddie was ensconced in the sliver of space between their bodies, never far from Marley's tiny fists.
"Thank you, Edward."
He grinned, brushing a wayward lock of hair back behind Scarlett's ear. Scarlett's eyes were sliding shut even as he rose from the bed and tugged the hospital blanket up over her. He felt the warmth of her cheek as his fingertips slid past during their retreat. It gave him an electric shock. Putting it down to static in the air, Edward sighed and stood, getting comfortable in the chair by the window once more to keep his promise to Scarlett.
As she drifted off he couldn't help but ruminate over the entire situation. Just a week ago he'd been home in Italy, not a care in the world. Yet here he was, sitting just feet away from two girls whom, honestly, he'd wondered if he'd ever see again.
And of course Marley, a little ray of silent sunlight he hadn't expected. Well, nobody had expected her. She was bright and brilliant, and oh-so-sweet.
Yes, he knew Scarlett was still having nightmares. And yes, he also knew Rosalie wasn't faring exceptionally well – albeit better than Scarlett, but still not amazingly. But he also saw their progress. He saw the way they were opening up more and more, trying to lean on their dads, and him. They were moving forward. With the help of the doctors and nurses at the hospital they could only move forward further once their health wasn't such an issue. It was no secret that Scarlett was scarily underweight, her persisting sickness not helping matters, though a nurse had mentioned nausea could be a symptom of concussion resulting from her head injury. So though it wasn't pleasant, it was fixable.
Scarlett could overcome it. She could overcome the past, the torment she and Rosalie had been subjected to, though he didn't know quite what that entailed and wasn't sure he wanted to. It would take time, patience, and lots of love, but Scarlett and Rosalie, along with Marley, would be able to move on from the past twelve years of captivity. Of that Edward was sure.
So yes, they were moving towards their freedom, both mental and physical, and Edward couldn't be happier about it.
True to his word, he remained in the chair until she was asleep, her breaths even and soft, silent from across the room. Careful not to disturb any of the three sleeping girls, Edward stood, stretching his arms and legs as far as possible. His leg – the one he broke during his last year at school – popped audibly. Wincing, Edward was about to retake his seat when he heard a loud clang from out in the corridor. He flinched and alternated glances between Scarlett, Rosalie, and Marley.
None of them stirred, thankfully. He tiptoed across the tiled floor towards the door, checking on them once more before opening it as quietly as possible and stepping out into the hall. The door clicked shut behind him as his eyes caught the source of the clang. His body registered the atmosphere saturating the area before his mind could catch up, his first clue being Peter's rigid stance against the far wall and the stony look on his face. Before he could ask what was going on, Charlie's fist came down on the seat of the chair beside the one he was sitting on, another clang ringing out through the thin corridor. Peter reached for his shoulder in warning.
"No," Charlie growled, but there was no fire in it. Only defeat. His eyes screamed anguish, their color so similar to Scarlett's that it made Edward cringe, though he couldn't pinpoint why. "It's wrong. There's no way."
Only then did Edward notice the man opposite Charlie. A doctor, judging by the white lab coat and stethoscope around his neck. He held a clipboard in one hand, a grim look on his face.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Swan. I ran the test three times myself, the results are correct."
Edward saw Peter squeeze Charlie's shoulder again as the dark-haired man made as if to stand.
"She can't be…" he breathed, the fight leeching out of him into the floor. He made a pitiful sight, slumping over on a worn chair in a corridor bearing peeling paintwork and faded carpet.
A rock landed, heavy and weighted, in Edward's stomach. She can't be, what?
"It would explain a few things, Mr. Swan. The majority of her symptoms fit. The mood swings, sickness, lethargy…"
Edward felt nausea hit him square in the gut, breath whooshing from his lungs with the doctors next words. Life became infinitely harder for Scarlett, and the chance of her being able to put the past firmly in the past became slimmer within a second.
"All of Scarlett's symptoms are absolutely linked to the fact that she's pregnant."
~ oOo ~
"She needs a doctor, please!"
Garrett scowled, flicking the ash from his cigarette on the floor. Rosalie was too distracted to care, though she'd only mopped hours before. "There are no doctors for hundreds of miles, tell her to just get on with it before I lose my patience. She's being a dramatic brat."
Rosalie's face fell, eyes stinging with tears she refused to shed. "But she needs a doctor, don't you get it? She needs medicine and help!"
"Well what are you for? Go back to your room and stay there, I don't want to hear another word out of either of you! You hear me? You won't like what happens if I'm disturbed again."
Hesitating just long enough to earn herself a dangerously raised eyebrow, Rosalie darted back up the stairs she'd just descended, skidding into the room she shared with Scarlett.
She was just where she'd left her, leaning over the side of the bed with her elbows digging into the thin mattress, heaving breaths wracking her small frame as she panted and keened, her cheeks red from exertion and hair matted to her head.
"Well?" Scarlett managed to ask through gritted teeth.
Rosalie grimaced. "I'm sorry. He wouldn't listen. What can I do?"
Scarlett didn't get the chance to get any words out. Her face scrunched up in obvious pain before she dug her arms into the bed, gripping the sheets so hard that she ripped tiny finger holes in the fabric. Her body shuddered, a wave of agony tearing through her. She sucked in deep breaths through her teeth. "Flannel…please," she finally breathed as the pain eased a little. Rosalie hurried to ring out the flannel she'd left beside Scarlett, soaking it in cold water before returning to hold it against Scarlett's head. She was panting heavily now, exhaustion and sweat burning her eyes.
"This hurts, Rosie. It really, really hurts."
"I know, Barley, I know it does. Can I do anything else?" Scarlett's whimpers absolutely broke Rosalie's heart, particularly because she knew there wasn't anything she could do to ease her pain. There was no magic cure, no medication she could give - not that they had in their limited medical supplies, anyway. And if Garrett were to be believed even if a doctor could get there, they probably wouldn't make it in time.
"Oh, Jesus, again…" Scarlett trailed off with a low, animalistic howl, pressing her forehead down into the bed as she rode through the waves of pain tormenting her body.
"They're getting closer, Barley…" Rosalie sighed, her heart racing. She had no idea what she was supposed to be doing, no idea how to help. The only thing she could think to do was carefully coax Scarlett up onto the bed and help her out of her tracksuit bottoms.
"Hold me hand, ok? Squeeze as hard as you need to."
Scarlett whimpered, her breaths rasping as she dragged in ragged puffs of air when her body cooperated.
This went on for hours. Well into the night Scarlett fidgeted, unable to rest but rapidly running out of energy. At eleven-thirty her pain eased just a fraction, nausea slamming into her gut like a wrecking ball for a few minutes before she felt the almighty urge to bear down.
Too tired to fight it, and too mentally drained to question her instincts, Scarlett squeezed Rosalie's hands purple as she let her body take over, battling valiantly for a further forty minutes before slumping in an exhausted heap against the cushions. Rosalie let her relax back, kissing her sweat-dampened forehead before moving shakily around to the foot of the bed.
Eyes wide, twin waterfalls cascading over her cheeks, she cleaned up as best she knew how, tucking a towel beneath Scarlett before taking another and wrapping it around the bloody grayish pink bundle between Scarlett's legs. She peered down, not one particular emotion taking precedence. She was petrified, more nervous than she'd ever been in her life, and beyond confused.
But, amidst all that, was an awe so strong it couldn't be denied or hidden.
Rosalie fell in love on the spot. She cooed, rocked, and soothed. Then, when Scarlett finally raised her head with tired eyes, scared eyes trained firmly on the towel-wrapped bundle in her arms, Rosalie moved around the bed, scooting in to sit next to her.
Smiling a shaky, watery half-smile, she carefully adjusted the precious cargo in her arms, shifting it to lay against Scarlett's chest. "Happy birthday, Mommy."
Scarlett peered into the face of her child, still a child herself, and wept.
She wept for the life she'd lived, the life she'd lost, and the life she'd created.
She memorized every tiny detail of the baby's face. The button nose, rosebud lips, and eyes the exact same shade of sea-blue-green as her own. Only once she was sure she'd never forget the baby's face did she look to Rosalie, seeing fear and wonder reflected back at her.
"What are you going to call her?" Rosalie whispered when their eyes swiveled back to the baby as she began to fuss.
"Her…" Scarlett murmured. She hadn't assigned the squirming mass in her stomach a gender. It hadn't seemed real until the contractions started in the early hours of the previous morning. It had become real, then. And it was even more-so now, with the squirming mass gone from her belly and resting, instead, at her chest.
Against her heart.
Outside, the wind howled, rain beating the windows in a harsh staccato. Not a star was visible in the sky, the mood hidden behind its shroud of black clouds. Draughts rattled the old house, and Rosalie tugged the covers up over her, Scarlett, and the settling newborn.
"Marley." Scarlett eventually said. "Marley Rosalie Swan. That's her name."
Rosalie felt fresh torrents of tears gathering in her eyes, but she held them back and swallowed the lump in her throat, reaching over the kiss the now-sleeping baby's cheek with her fingertips.
"Happy birthday, Marley," she murmured, twisting a little to curl into Scarlett as she added, "and happy sweet sixteen to us."
Scarlett hummed, staring down at the life she'd had no choice in creating, and wondered about all the things her dad had doubtlessly pictured his daughter doing or having on her sweet sixteen.
She doubted childbirth and forced parenthood made the list.
~ oOo ~
Scarlett woke with a jolt, flying upright. It took a few long moments for her to remember where she was.
It had been a while since she'd dreamt of Marley's birth. It had been, without a doubt, the scariest, most painful experience of her life. She'd been petrified when she discovered her pregnancy, just fifteen-years-old, but was even more-so when the contractions began.
She winced at the memory of the pain that had ravished her body for almost twenty-four hours. It had resulted in the best thing in her life, her beautiful daughter, but at the time Scarlett had been exhausted and terrified of everything – especially the newborn baby relying on her and Rosalie for everything.
Looking over at her now, Scarlett thought she couldn't remember what her face had looked like in those early days. But as she fidgeted in her sleep, Scarlett saw the same purse to her lips she'd worn as a newborn, the same scrunch of her forehead as she wriggled and adjusted her hold on Mister Eddie the bunny. Yes, she could remember. She may not have the albums most mothers got to cherish forever, but she had her memories, and nobody could take those away from her.
Only when a myriad of muffled cries and a thump came through the cracked-open door did Scarlett snap out of her staring. She pulled her eyes from Marley's sleeping face, trying to see through the gap between the doorframe and the door. She couldn't. The bed was at the wrong angle.
Carefully, so as not to wake Rosalie or Marley, she padded across the room on bare feet, wincing momentarily at the chill to the floor before adjusting and sliding her feet into a pair of socks with sticky circles on the bottom to stop her feet slipping on the floor. A kind nurse with warm brown eyes and a wrinkled face had given pairs to her, Rosalie, and Marley so they could move around without worrying about slipping. At the time she'd been too overwhelmed to think much of them, but she was grateful for them now, and resolved to thank the nurse when she returned.
Moving towards the door, Scarlett was startled to hear swearing tinged with a familiar Italian lilt. She hurried, pushing the door open slowly just as the doctor helped Charlie up into a sitting position on the floor.
"Dad?" She gasped, falling to her knees in front of him. His face was pale, eyes glassy. "What's wrong? What's going on?"
Receiving only a blank stare from Charlie, she looked to Peter – who averted his eyes – before meeting Edward's eyes. He looked pained as he forced himself to meet her gaze.
"What's going on?" Scarlett asked in a small voice.
The doctor rose, Scarlett scampering back a little. She hadn't realized how close to him she'd been, eyes only on her dad.
"Miss. Swan, the results of your blood tests came back. You gave me permission to share them with your father, and he had a bit of a shock. Would you like to discuss them in the room?"
Eyeing her dad, then the doctor with his soft gray eyes and unreadable expression, Scarlett felt frissons of fear snaking their way into her heart, and shook her head.
"No, h-here is fine. What...what is it? What's wrong with me?"
The first time around, nobody told Scarlett that she was pregnant. She may have been only fifteen, but she knew enough about periods from overhearing conversations as a child to realize that it wasn't normal for them to suddenly stop.
Especially after what had happened six weeks or so before.
This time? This time she'd had no inkling, no suspicions or worries. Truthfully, she'd had plenty other things to worry about.
So, with that said, it wasn't a surprise to anyone when her heart-rate soared and the breath rushed out of her in one long gust as the doctor informed her of the positive pregnancy test, and the need for a scan to determine how far along she was.
Edward's arms were waiting when her legs became too wobbly to support her weight, her gaze glazing over as she leaned backwards into his chest and closed herself off before their eyes, all emotion wiping itself from her face, a shroud of numbness protecting her from the outside world.
Nothing could get her there. Nothing could penetrate it.
And nothing pulled her out of it.
An entire day passed with Scarlett in a catatonic state, fluids being pumped into and out of her by machines, warm hands and warmer voices attempting to cajole her from the misery of her own mind to no avail.
Until Edward had an idea. One the doctor initially rejected, but finally agreed to try.
Charlie to her left, Rosalie her right, Marley at the foot of the bed with Edward's hand in her left, Mister Eddie in her right, Peter a step back from his childhood friend – just in case – Scarlett finally roused, a sound no mother could ignore penetrating the bubble she'd created around herself.
Tears filled every eye in the room as Scarlett moved, slowly, to a sitting position, eyes searching for focus, roused only by the sound of her unborn child's heartbeat, its first grainy image squirming in mottled gray, black, and white on the screen at the end of the bed. Marley wriggled closed, peering intently at the profile of her brother or sister before twisting to frown uncertainly at her mother.
Scarlett stared right back, gaze flitting between the faces of the lives she'd made. The lives she carried within her heart.
Her purpose. Her reason for living. Her reason to fight, to overcome, and to heal.
She had a purpose, and she vowed not to forget it again.