I turned. He stood on the tarmac, wind blowing his hair, an expression on his face I'd never seen before. On anyone else, I'd call it heartbreak. But that word seemed too strange for Luca.
"I'll come find you after I resign."
I nodded once and boarded.
As the helicopter lifted off, New York's panorama spread out below. Manhattan's skyline was gilded cold gold in the rising sun, Central Park embedded in the heart of that steel jungle. This city had devoured the first half of my life, chewed up a kid who should've grown up normal, swallowed him whole, and spit out a monster.
But today the monster was leaving.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out that wrinkled baby catalog. Opening to the page with the stars, Chloe's pencil marks were nearly rubbed away by my fingerprints.
Wait for me, Chloe.
Please. Let me see you one more time.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chloe
Blackhill mornings were always quiet.
I woke at seven every day. Brushing my teeth, I could hear Mrs. Douglas next door feeding her chickens, sometimes her old hound dog yawning once or twice. I left at seven-thirty, walked ten minutes down Main Street to the flower shop. On the way, I passed a bakery where the red-faced owner waved and called out, "Hey, morning, Mrs. Gray!"
Mrs. Gray. Took me a whole week to get used to that name. Now I was Ella Gray, a widow from Los Angeles, husband killed in a car accident, moved to this small town alone with an unborn baby. Anna had built the story for me—simple, clichéd, but people in places like this didn't ask questions.
They only cared if you were a good neighbor.
I worked at a flower shop near the town center. The owner was Ruth, a woman in her seventies with a slight hunch who moved slowly but worked fast. First day I walked in, I just saw the help wanted sign and wanted to ask about it, never expected to get hired. But Grandma Ruth glanced at me and my belly, put me to work that same day.
No interview, no résumé, no unnecessary questions. Life was so peaceful I almost wished I really was Ella Gray, just an ordinary pregnant woman working at a small-town flower shop.
Life here was simple and stable, people warm and friendly. My belly grew bigger every day, and lifting heavy flowers got harder, but Grandma Ruth quietly took over all the heavy work without a word, leaving me to handle the counter and wrap bouquets.
Today was market day on the weekend. More people buying flowers than usual. I fumbled with the ribbon on a mixed bouquet, tied it wrong twice, and the third time I finally got it right, my palms were soaked with sweat.
Grandma Ruth's grandson Noah was helping out, too. Early twenties, brown curly hair, a dimple when he smiled, studying agricultural management at the community college, came by weekends to help his grandmother. He was the kind of young guy who'd clearly never been beaten down by life, always spoke with this thoughtless warmth.
He was hauling a bucket of lilies out of the cooler when he suddenly spoke up.
"Mrs. Gray, I've been wanting to ask. Why'd you move to a middle-of-nowhere place like this all by yourself?"
My hand paused.
"A big city like New York's got everything—food, fun, you name it. You come running to our little nothing town, did something happen?" He set down the lily bucket, wiped his hands, tilted his head at me. "And where's the baby's father?"
I wasn't used to those excuses yet and could only think through it in my head. But before I could answer, Grandma Ruth had already poked her head out from the back workroom. "Noah! I wish you'd run your mouth a little less. You gonna dig at a pregnant woman's scars?"
"I didn't mean to dig at scars." Noah spread his hands, expression not guilty at all. "Maybe I'm not here to open wounds, maybe I'm here to heal them."
Grandma Ruth grabbed a long pruning pole and waved it at him. "Here you go again. Can't you think about something else? Last time itwas the baker's daughter, time before that the postal intern. Can you settle down?"
"Grandma, those were two completely different things!"
"How were they different? Same sweet-talking routine every time!"
The two of them bickered away right in front of me. I watched them, couldn't help smiling. This kind of petty family squabbling, noisy and warm, no malice in it. Worlds away from the cold family life in my memories.
When they finally settled down, I answered Noah's question.
