She’s still here.
The wall of grief in Addison’s gut collapses as she rushes forward and wraps her arms around Emma. She’s thinner and dirtier, but her heart beats strongly against her mother’s chest.
“I’ve got you. I’m here. I’m here,” she sobs.
She doesn’t think about what the bite means. Can’t. Needs to feel this relief in her bones and be grateful for just a little more time.
Not everyone gets a second chance to say goodbye.
“A dog bit me,” Emma cries. “I thought it was friendly, but it wasn’t, and I had to use the knife to make it stop. I didn’t mean to hurt him, Momma. I swear I didn’t mean to.”
Addison pulls back, the mouse in her head falling off the wheel as she processes that statement. “A dog bit you?”
“I’m sorry I hurt him, but I didn’t know what to do.”
“It wasn’t a person? One of the dead?”
“No. I’ve been hiding from them. I didn’t know how to get back home. Everything looked the same until I got to the bigger road, and then I couldn’t figure out which way to go. Dad didn’t come back yet, did he?”
“No. No, you don’t have to worry about him. You’ve been so brave, sweetheart.”
The first thing she asks isn’t for water or food, but for reassurance that Vincent hasn’t shown up. That has Addison’s emotions running even wilder than before.
This roller coaster would have her vomiting up her breakfast if she had eaten anything this morning. She’s gone from fearing her daughter lost forever to finding her and assuming her dead, only to be gifted the best news she could hope for.
Relief and adrenaline, coupled with an empty stomach, fuzzes her head until she’s woozy.
Wyatt props her up from behind so she doesn’t faint and fishes out a bottle of water from his bag to give to Emma.
Addison shoved him away before, and he’s still here catching her.
She wouldn’t be here right now hugging her daughter if Wyatt hadn’t pushed her to keep trying. When she turns her head, he’s watching her with uncertainty as if she might lash out again.
Instead, she keeps one arm around Emma and wraps the other around his neck to hug him tight. She breathes him in with a swift inhale and whispers her words into his skin. “Thank you.”
He isn’t a hugger. She already knows that. The stiffness in his body is swift the moment she connects, but she waits him out, hoping to mend a little bit of that soft heart that her actions stomped on.
It’s only when he begins to relax, melting against her like he hasn’t been hugged like this in decades, that it occurs to her she hasn’t either.
“Let’s go home,” he says, giving her a final squeeze and helping them both to their feet.
Three little words have never felt more like the promise of a brighter future.
Chapter 10
Emma’s been home for a week and spent the majority of that time curled up with her mother, the two of them sleeping like cats.
The kid was skinny and dehydrated, in no shape to do more than rest. It’s only a miracle she survived at all. Told them she milked the cows like they used to do back home. The cult actually taught her something useful, but even a broken clock is right twice a day.
Wyatt keeps himself busy with fencing in the woods and setting traps around the property.
Addison’s worried about pulling her weight despite his assurances that there’s no shortage of tasks.
“We’ll both be productive soon,” she told him. “She’s getting stronger every day. I just can’t leave her yet.”
What he doesn’t say is that he’s glad, on some level, that she’s forced to relax. She’s run herself ragged, and that can’t be good for the walnut she’s carrying.
Then there’s the uncomfortable truth that he sort of likes taking care of them. It produces a weird but pleasant feeling in his chest when he’s able to provide. Gotta be some caveman throwback lurking in his genetics that has him latching onto any semblance of domesticity. He’s well aware that his reaction ain’t a good thing, but he plans to ride this train of fake normalcy for the time being.
