She froze, unable to move, her chest tight.
Breathe.Her head screamed.
Chloe has no idea what that handkerchief is or what it means to you.
The girl raised her head, eyes wide as she traced a delicate finger along the silver bell detail. “This is embroidery.” She pronounced the word with deliberation, her face pale.
She has no idea. Play it off.
“Yes, it’s embroidery. My grandmother made this for me. She used to take me to church, fold the handkerchief, and place a quarter in it. When the donation plate was passed about, I’d put my quarter in the plate.”
Drawing her bottom lip between her teeth, Chloe scrambled up. Her color hadn’t improved and she appeared far more serious than warranted.
Alice ambled over to her side and held out her hand, willing it to stay steady. “Can I have it back, please? It sounds like a lot of people are here and you’ll want to show K.C. off to your cousins.”
Chloe shook her head, walking over to the recliner next to her bed. She picked up the blanket from the chair and flipped it over.
Alice’s hand flew to her mouth, bile burning a path up her throat. Embroidered on the hem of the once cream-colored blanket, now stained and worn from use, were silver bells.
“Santa delivered me in this blanket. I was adopted and Mom said my birth mother left this gift for me. Her name was K.C. See, it’s right here.” She pointed to the tiny initials in the blanket’s design, the same ones embroidered in the handkerchief.
Her grandmother’s initials. Kate Carlson. K.C.
The girl’s gaze shimmered with questions, her knuckles on the blanket white. “I was born two days before Christmas but Daddy wanted to celebrate on Christmas Day cause he said I was Mom’s Christmas miracle.”
“Then you truly were a miracle for Hallie, your true mother. The one who raised you and took care of you, who loves you more than anything in the world.”
How could she possibly guess? She was ten years old. Too young to put two and two together.
Alice forced herself to think fast. She needed to be very careful not to confirm anything. Deny and deflect. She’d been doing it most of her life and was a pro at it. “I loved seeing the video of you with your family. It was a very happy time for everybody.”
“I know.” Chloe studied Alice with such intensity, she shifted on her feet.
She crossed her arms, trying to hold back the tremors from rocking her body. This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t. “We should go see the rest of the family. Your family. Can I have my handkerchief back?”
Chloe tilted her chin. “Alice, are you—”
Don’t ask. Don’t ask. Don’t ask.She begged with every fiber of her being. This was too bizarre to be real, yet Chloe continued to watch her, lower lip quivering. Alice couldn’t let her say the words out loud. “The handkerchief, Chloe, please.”
“Are you—” Chloe began again, pleading tinged her voice.
Alice willed her knees not to buckle.
“Give her the handkerchief Chloe. Your mom’s looking for you.” Niko spoke from the doorway, his words soft but his grey eyes were shadowed with hurt and confusion. The trembling within Alice increased and she accepted the handkerchief from Chloe.
“Thank you,” she said, trying to convey her apology to the girl. Her little girl. No, not hers. The baby she’d given up for adoption. Chloe looked from Niko to her and casting Alice a sad smile, she left.
Alice gathered her courage and approached the door, intending to brush past him. He blocked her exit. Spots dotted her vision as she met his stare head on.
Chapter Fifty
Niko’s chest was in a vice, his temples pounding. He raked a hand through his hair and settled it on his neck. Even as an amateur fighting his way up the ranks, he’d never experienced such a severe sucker punch. “Is Chloe right? Is the embroidery on the blanket and the one on your handkerchief the same?” Please say no.
Alice loosened her jaw, and offered him a tight smile. “They’re similar but hardly the same. Chloe was mistaken. She’s a child.”
“And you’re deflecting.” He jerked his chin and indicated the blanket, the one Chloe had clung to during her chemotherapy treatments and the vomiting that followed. Her ties to the past with a woman she’d never met. The initials K.C. “You do this thing with your jaw when you’re defensive.”
“I’m not sure where this conversation is going.” She straightened her shoulders and the producer mask slipped into place. Cool and professional, meant to intimidate. “I simply asked Chloe for my handkerchief back. The one thing I kept over the years to remind me of home. I’ve kept it ever since my granny gave it to me.”
