“Mommy, please.” His voice wobbles against my cheek. “Can I come with you? I don’t want to stay with Aunt Camille anymore.” Tears gather as he weaves back. “I miss you, Mommy.”
My hands shake as I hold him, my grip turning desperate. “I miss you too, baby. I miss you every day, and I wish we could be together.”
“Did you find a house yet? For me to live with you?” The hope in his tone is almost too much.
“Not yet.” I swallow hard. “But I’m close. You’ll be with me soon.”
I pray I didn’t just make a promise I can’t keep.
His eyes glaze over even more, and he grips me again, like he’s afraid I’ll disappear the second he lets go. My gaze flicks past him to the guy in the distance.
“Who’s that man with you, bud?” I smooth a hand down the back of his hair.
“That’s Tim. He’s my babysitter when Aunt Camille can’t watch me.”
What does she even know about him?
“Is he nice?”
Milo shrugs. “Yeah. He plays with me.”
“Okay.” I force myself to nod. “Good.”
“Milo? Where are you?” Tim calls like we summoned him.
Crap.
“You should go back,” I whisper, trying to guide Milo away, but his chin trembles.
“I don’t wanna.”
My own tears rush up just as Tim appears.
He takes one look at the two of us, and his expression hardens. “Who the hell are you? Get away from him before I call the cops.”
Milo’s fingers clamp down around mine. “You can’t call the police on my mommy!”
Tim freezes, then his brow lifts. “Mommy?”
My heart pounds so hard it’s like it might shove its way out of my chest. If he tells my sister, I’ll never see Milo again.
“Yes.” My throat tightens. “I’m his mom.”
He lets out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Your sister said you were dead.”
The world tilts.
That bitch.
I can’t even find anger. The shock takes up all the space. Of course I’d be dead in Camille’s world.
“My mommy is not dead.” Milo’s chin juts out with fierce little conviction.
Tim’s gaze flicks to Milo, then back to me, and something changes on his face. A crack in his certainty, like he notices the resemblance now.
“Yeah, I can see that…” He scratches the top of his head.
“My sister and I don’t get along,” I say, choosing my words carefully in case any of this gets back to her. “It’s a long story, but she took him from me, and I intend to get him back. I’m not…I’m not on drugs or anything. It’s not like that. We had a falling-out and she’s doing this to punish me.”
