Chapter 7 - “YOU LOOK LIKE THE MAN IN MY DREAMS”
Nathaniel saw Grace through a one-way observation window.
He almost fell apart before she even entered the room.
Eleven years old.
Long brown hair.
Thin shoulders.
Jeans.
Green sweater.
She carried three library books against her chest.
Elizabeth used to carry books exactly like that.
Pressed tightly to her ribs.
Nathaniel’s hand went to the glass.
“My God.”
A family therapist stood beside him.
“Don’t go in yet.”
He nodded.
Grace sat across from Rebecca Sloan.
Her foster mother was fifty-two, a middle-school librarian with silver beginning at her temples and a kind face that immediately made Nathaniel afraid.
Because Grace loved her.
He could see it.
Grace leaned toward Rebecca.
Rebecca rubbed her shoulder.
There was trust there.
History.
Five years Nathaniel did not share.
The therapist said quietly, “Rebecca has known for twenty-four hours.”
“And Grace?”
“She knows authorities found someone who may be connected to her life before St. Anne’s.”
Nathaniel swallowed.
“Does she remember anything?”
“Fragments.”
“What fragments?”
“A yellow bedroom.”
His eyes filled.
“A woman singing.”
Elizabeth.
“A man carrying her on his shoulders.”
Nathaniel looked away.
“And fire.”
He closed his eyes.
The therapist continued.
“She has had nightmares about a truck for years.”
Nathaniel’s jaw tightened.
“Malcolm took five years from her.”
“Right now, this is about Grace.”
He nodded.
The therapist opened the door.
Nathaniel entered.
Grace looked up.
The world stopped.
Nathaniel had imagined this moment in a thousand impossible versions since receiving the DNA result.
He had imagined running to her.
Calling her name.
Holding her.
Instead, he simply stood there.
Because Grace looked terrified.
And love, he finally understood, was not taking what you desperately wanted.
Sometimes it was staying still enough not to frighten the person you loved.
“Hi,” Grace said.
Nathaniel couldn’t answer.
Rebecca touched her shoulder.
“This is Nathaniel.”
Grace studied him.
“You’re the man from the pictures?”
His heart broke.
“Yes.”
“My father?”
He swallowed.
“Yes.”
Grace looked down.
Nathaniel sat across from her.
Not too close.
“You don’t have to call me anything you don’t want to.”
She looked surprised.
“You remember me?”
Nathaniel smiled through tears.
“Every day.”
Grace’s eyes shifted.
“I don’t remember you very much.”
“I know.”
“Does that make you sad?”
“Yes.”
Rebecca looked worried.
Nathaniel continued.
“But it’s not your job to make me less sad.”
Grace looked at him again.
Something softened.
Nathaniel reached into his pocket.
He placed a photograph on the table.
The same summer photograph from his study.
Elizabeth beneath the hat.
Grace laughing on his shoulders.
Grace stared.
“That’s me.”
“Yes.”
“And that’s her.”
“Your mother.”
Grace touched Elizabeth’s face.
Tears suddenly filled her eyes.
“I know her.”
Nathaniel stopped breathing.
“You do?”
“Sometimes I dream about her.”
A chill went through him.
Grace looked at him.
“She sits in a yellow room.”
Nathaniel’s eyes widened.
Rebecca noticed.
“What?”
Nathaniel shook his head.
“Nothing.”
Grace continued.
“There’s a little girl there sometimes too.”
Nathaniel’s entire body went still.
“A little girl?”
“She has curly hair.”
Lily.
Grace frowned.
“She says weird things.”
Despite everything, Nathaniel laughed.
“That sounds like Lily.”
Grace’s eyes widened.
“You know her?”
“Yes.”
Grace leaned forward.
“She’s real?”
Nathaniel nodded slowly.
Grace looked stunned.
Then she stared at him with sudden intensity.
“You look like the man in my dreams.”
His breath caught.
“What dreams?”
“You’re standing outside a window.”
Nathaniel’s eyes filled.
Grace’s childhood habit.
She used to watch for him from the window.
Grace rubbed her forehead.
“I remember waiting.”
Nathaniel could no longer stop the tears.
“I’m sorry.”
Grace became tense.
He caught himself.
“No. That isn’t fair.”
“What?”
“I have things I need to be sorry for.”
He steadied his voice.
“But I will never make you responsible for forgiving them.”
Grace watched him.
Nathaniel continued.
“I worked too much.”
“Mom told you that?”
“Yes.”
“Did you listen?”
He gave a broken smile.
“Not soon enough.”
Grace’s eyes filled.
“Did she die?”
The question destroyed him.
“Yes.”
Grace looked down.
“Because of the truck?”
Nathaniel glanced toward the therapist.
Then answered honestly.
“Yes.”
“Did I leave her?”
“No.”
His voice was immediate.
“You were six years old. None of this was your fault.”
Grace began crying.
“I remember her screaming my name.”
Nathaniel moved instinctively.
Then stopped.
Grace noticed.
She looked at his open hands.
Slowly, she stood.
Nathaniel didn’t move.
Grace took one step.
Then another.
She stopped in front of him.
Nathaniel whispered, “Can I hug you?”
Grace nodded.
He wrapped his arms around his daughter.
Five years disappeared.
Nathaniel buried his face against her hair and sobbed.
Grace cried too.
Rebecca turned away, wiping her eyes.
The therapist gave them time.
Eventually Grace whispered against his shoulder.
“Are you taking me away from Rebecca?”
Nathaniel froze.
There it was.
The choice.
The old Nathaniel would have said yes.
He had the law.
The DNA.
The money.
The house.
The biological right.
But he looked at Rebecca.
The woman who had attended school meetings.
Sat beside Grace during nightmares.
Taught her to ride a bicycle.
Loved her when Nathaniel didn’t know she existed.
He pulled back.
“No.”
Grace stared.
“No?”
“Not unless someday you want something different.”
Rebecca looked stunned.
Nathaniel continued.
“You already lost one family once.”
His voice cracked.
“I will not make you lose another just so I can feel like I got something back.”
Grace started crying again.
Rebecca did too.
Nathaniel looked toward her.
“You’re her mother too.”
Rebecca covered her mouth.
“Nathaniel…”
“It’s true.”
Grace took both their hands.
For the first time, something inside Nathaniel loosened.
He could not repair the five missing years.
But perhaps he could stop trying to own the future.
That evening, Grace agreed to visit the estate the following weekend.
Rebecca would come.
The therapist would come.
Everything slowly.
Everything on Grace’s terms.
Nathaniel returned home after dark.
Lily was waiting in the foyer wearing pajamas.
When she saw him, she smiled.
“You found her.”
Nathaniel stared.
Maria appeared behind her.
“How did you know?”
Lily shrugged.
“The pretty lady was happy.”
Nathaniel’s throat tightened.
“Did she say anything else?”
Lily thought carefully.
“She said now you have to stop the bad man.”
Nathaniel’s expression changed.
Maria’s phone rang.
She glanced at the screen.
Unknown number.
She answered cautiously.
“Hello?”
A man’s voice came through.
Maria’s face went white.
Nathaniel grabbed the phone.
“Malcolm?”
A quiet laugh.
“Nate.”
Nathaniel’s jaw hardened.
“What do you want?”
“You found Grace.”
His blood ran cold.
May you like
Malcolm continued.
“That was your mistake.”
