“Then get in the car, sweetheart.”
“She just needs time to get somewhere safe.”
Sophie stared at me, then some of the tension left her shoulders.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
I loaded her bags into the trunk while she strapped a secondhand car seat into the back.
On the road, I checked the rearview mirror more than I checked traffic.
Sophie was humming to the baby. A lullaby I used to sing to her.
She rocked that tiny body with the steady, practiced motion of someone who had been doing it for weeks.
A few days for what?
“How long are you planning to keep her?” I asked.
“Just a few days.”
I looked at her in the mirror. “And then what?”
Sophie lowered her eyes to the baby. “Her mother gets paid at the end of the week. She just needs time to get somewhere safe.”
“Why can’t she keep her own baby until then?”
I’d wait until morning to push.
“I promised I wouldn’t tell you anything else.” Sophie swallowed. “Please, Mom. Just give me a few days.”
A few days for what? And what exactly was supposed to happen when they were over?
I gripped the steering wheel. Instead I asked, “What’s her name?”
A pause.
“She doesn’t have one yet.”
The rest of the drive was silent. Sophie watched the baby instead of me.
Folded hospital sticker.
At home, Sophie took the baby upstairs.
I heated leftovers neither of us touched.
After she fell asleep, I sat across from the diaper bag like it was waiting to be questioned.
I told myself I’d wait until morning to push.
I almost did.
Then I noticed something sticking out of the diaper bag.
“My friend. From the resort.”
Inside the pocket was a folded hospital sticker.
Mia.
The girl from housekeeping.
I looked toward the stairs.
Whatever Sophie had been hiding hadn’t started with that baby.
She was protecting somebody.
I heard my daughter on the stairs and did not have time to hide it.
She stopped in the doorway, her eyes on the sticker in my hand.
“Mom.”
“Who is Mia, sweetheart?”
She sat down slowly across from me. “My friend. From the resort.”
“Her friend — holding her baby in my kitchen.”
“I’m trying to find Mia.”
Sophie stared at the table. “She just needs time, Mom. That’s all I can tell you. I promised.”
“Time for what?”
“Please. Don’t make me break it.”
I looked at my daughter and saw something I had never seen before.
She was protecting somebody.
Not hiding — protecting.
“We worked together.”
“Okay,” I said. “For tonight.”
But if Sophie wouldn’t tell me how Mia fit into this, I needed to find someone who would.
The next morning, while Sophie showered, I called the resort.
A young woman named Jenna picked up on the third try.
“You’re Sophie’s mom?”
“I am. I’m trying to find Mia.”
“Why Sophie came here.”
Silence.
“Is she okay?”
“I don’t know yet. How well did you know her?”
“We worked together. Mia was in housekeeping.”
“And Sophie?”
Another pause.
She had gone there looking for her.
“You really don’t know, do you?”
My grip tightened around the phone. “Know what?”
“About why Sophie came here.”
“What do you mean?”
“Sophie already knew about Mia before she took the job. She asked about her the first week.”
“Who is she?”
The room went still.
Sophie hadn’t met Mia at the resort. She had gone there looking for her.
But why would my daughter take a job three hours from home just to find one particular girl?
“How did she know her?”
“I don’t know.”
I thanked her and hung up.
“I promised I wouldn’t tell you.”
When Sophie came downstairs, I was waiting in the kitchen.
“You knew Mia before you took that job.”
She stopped. “Mom…”
“You went there looking for her.”
Sophie looked away.
“Who is she?”
“Laura.”
“I promised I wouldn’t tell you.”
“Then tell me why you were looking for her.”
Her eyes filled. “Because of Dad.”
That was the last answer I expected.
My husband Daniel had been dead for five years.
