She wrinkled her nose.
“No, not very imaginative, is it? What about Snowy?”
She tilted her head as if she was considering it and I laughed. Noting a floor mat on the other side of the sofa, I turned back to Fyfe. “Is she crawling?”
He leaned against the island, arms crossed over his chest, expression neutral again. “Aye. The internet suggested she might, so I ordered a play mat and sure enough, she’s been crawling all over the bloody place. I can’t take my eyes off her for a second.”
Millie dropped the polar bear and reached for my face, making incoherent noises as she touched me inquisitively.
“Have you told anyone?” He certainly hadn’t told Lewis!
“No,” Fyfe replied. “I wanted to wait to see if she was mine before introducing everyone into her life.”
“You need support right now, Fyfe.”
“It’s fine. I don’t deserve … never mind.”
“Call your friends.”
“It’s fine,” he repeated stubbornly. “Why are you here?”
The reason for my visit trembled on the tip of my tongue.
However, I stopped myself.
Fyfe had enough on his plate right now.
I could ask Callie’s dad, Walker, to look into the camera situation. He was head of security on the estate and he had contacts that might be able to trace the culprit through the cameras.
“It doesn’t matter. What can I do to help?”
“Eilidh—”
“Fyfe, what can I do to help?”
He sighed wearily, running a hand through his hair. “Could you just watch her while I have a quick shower?”
“Of course.”
As soon as he left the room and I thought he was out of earshot, I turned back to Millie who was surprisingly docile in my arms considering all she’d been through in the last few days. She had to be missing her mummy. The thought made me ache all over again. “Come on, Millie. Let’s get Fyfe some help, hmm?”
I settled her down on the mat in front of me with a toy that sang to her every time she pressed a different button, pulled my phone out of my back pocket, and called Lewis.
Nineteen
FYFE
The last two days with Millie had been a whirlwind of surreal. I’d been so busy keeping the tiny human alive that I hadn’t had a moment to overthink.
Now as I showered, safe in the knowledge Eilidh was looking after Millie, it hit me.
This wee girl could be my daughter.
That meant the mother of my childabandonedher.
Pamela had fallen pregnant and brought Millie to term, attempted to look after her for around nine months, and in all that time (a year and a half) had not once reached out to tell me I had a daughter.
I’d missed all of it.
