Not My Mother Miranda Smith (chromebook ebook reader .TXT) 📖

are on their way,” he says, using his own phone as a light. “Surely, she wouldn’t take her out here in the middle of this.”

“She has nowhere else to go,” I say, stopping, trying to listen for more cries. The fear inside is overwhelming. I can’t stand for Ava to be out here without me, and I don’t trust Amelia’s mental state.

Another whimper, closer this time.

“Amelia,” I scream, my voice useless against the heavy winds. “Amelia, please. Don’t take Ava. Don’t hurt her.”

My eyes begin to adjust to the darkness. Not far ahead of me, there’s an outline of something on the empty beach. As I approach, I hear another cry. I hold my hand forward, shining the light. It’s them. Amelia is huddled on the sand, holding Ava.

“Don’t come any closer,” she says.

It’s amazing how quickly you’ll obey when someone has your child. I freeze, holding my other hand back, instructing Evan to do the same.

“You don’t want to hurt her,” I say.

“Of course I don’t. All I ever wanted to do is love her. Love you. I would have been a good mother. All I ever wanted was the chance. I finally had it, but he ruined it.”

“Who did?”

“Bruce!” she screams, raising her face. “If he hadn’t made so many mistakes, if he hadn’t messed with those girls, Sarah would have left you with me.”

“If Bruce was dangerous, she had every reason to take me with her.”

She knows I’m right. Her silence confirms it. She wipes her nose with the back of her hand and clears her throat.

“She didn’t kill him, you know.” She rocks back and forth, holding Ava in her arms. “I did.”

I fall to my knees in the sand, staring at the horrible sight of this confessed killer holding my child.

“Sarah gave him a good beating. I don’t think he would have survived, especially with that wound on his head, but he was still alive when I came outside after I realized Caroline was gone,” she continues. “He was on the pavement, asking for help. But how could I help him when he’d just cost me everything?”

The question is rhetorical, and I’m too full of fear and disbelief to answer her. I stay completely still, watching her every move. I’m stunned. This crime Mom has been running from her entire life wasn’t entirely her fault. Amelia killed Bruce.

“I covered his mouth and nose with my hands,” Amelia says. “He was already so weak. It didn’t take much force. I didn’t let go until I knew he was gone.”

“You did that because you knew he was dangerous. You did the right thing, Amelia. You made sure he wouldn’t hurt anyone else.”

A burst of red and blue lights spreads across the beach. The police have arrived, although they are still in the condominium parking lot. Amelia sees them, holds Ava tighter. Evan rushes toward her, but I hold out my arm, signaling him to step back.

“You can still do the right thing,” I say. “I know you don’t want to hurt Ava.”

“I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“And neither did we,” I say, the wind blowing hair into my mouth, sticking to my wet cheeks. “Please, don’t take my daughter from me.”

Amelia scrunches her face, falling over on the sand. Ava rolls from her grasp. Without instruction, Evan leaps toward her. He swoops her up, running away from us. There are voices behind us. I see the intermittent blasts of flashlights as officers run to meet us on the beach.

“I’ll stay with you,” I say to her.

Amelia remains in the fetal position, wailing. She has finally given up, released the last of the secrets she’s been keeping all these years.

50 MarionNow

I’m sitting on the living room sofa with a blanket wrapped around my shoulders. The police have separated us so they can get our individual statements. They have taken Ava to an ambulance to check her vitals. Each second I’m away from her feels like a punishment. Even though I believe she’s safe, this knot in my stomach won’t untangle until I can feel her body against mine. I rock back and forth, the blanket doing little to warm my drenched clothes and hair.

“Let me in,” I hear a voice at the front door.

There are two officers blocking the entrance to my living room. I don’t have to see past them to know the husky voice yelling obscenities belongs to Des. They try to reason with her, an impossible feat.

“Let her in. Please,” I tell one of the officers.

He steps to the side. Des lumbers into the room, her arms outstretched. She kneels on the floor in front of me.

Des’ face is pale. She has always had a weak stomach, and last I looked, there was a nasty bump on the side of my head. “My goodness. Are you okay? You look like you’ve been in a car accident.”

“It feels like I’ve been in one.”

“Ava. Is she okay?”

Ava. I just want to hold her. My mind flashes back to the beach, the overwhelming terror I felt watching Amelia wrestle to keep Ava in her arms.

There’s another disruption at the front door. The officer steps aside. Evan is standing there, holding Ava in his arms. I stand, charging toward them. I take her from him. Her face is perfect, undisturbed. She’s safe. She’s here. I smile through the tears, holding her close to me.

“Everything’s okay now,” I say.

Evan nods. There is nothing else to say, at least not in this minute. This minute is for appreciating Ava, giving thanks that she’s back. I’ve never been so close to losing her, and my body will forever remember this feeling, ready to react again if forced.

Des pats Evan’s back. She walks over to the sofa and takes a seat, relieved. I know she wants to love on Ava, and she’ll get her chance, but she must be happy to know we’re both out of harm’s way.

I close my eyes, swaying Ava from side to side, whispering prayers.

When I open