Page 102 of Talk Wicked to Me

They looked through a number of trinkets she’d also made for her parents when she was young, and when she took the last of them out of the box, they found a smaller wooden box about the size of a paperback with her mother’s initials engraved in the top.

Emerson opened it, and her heart stumbled. It was full of the sticky notes Emerson had given her throughout the years, with I’m sorry scrawled on them.

“She kept them” came out as a whisper. “I can’t believe she kept them.”

“I can,” Baz said gently. “Those were your love letters to her. I’m sure she treasured them as much as she treasured your father’s love letters.”

Tears sprang to her eyes, her throat thickening painfully. My love letters. He couldn’t be more right.

Baz took one out of the box. “She folded the sticky part over so they wouldn’t stick together. Did she write what the fight was about, or did you?”

“What?” She took the note from him and saw her mother’s right-leaning handwriting on the back. She read what she’d written. “I made you change out of shorts that were too small. One day you’ll thank me.”

“I would’ve liked your mom.”

“She would’ve liked you, too.” She took another note out of the box, reading the back aloud. “You cut class to get ice cream with Gwen and two boys.”

“You naughty girl,” Baz teased.

“I wasn’t that bad. I didn’t get caught. I felt so guilty, I told my parents I had ditched class, and I asked my teacher for extra homework.”

He laughed and hugged her, before plucking another note from the box and reading the back. “I wouldn’t let you wear lipstick to school. You’re 13!”

“I remember that. I didn’t even like lipstick. But the popular girls were wearing it, so Gwen and I wanted to try it. The reason I got in trouble was that my mom said I wasn’t allowed to wear it, so I went to school without lipstick and came home with it…and more.”

He arched a brow. “Gwen?”

“Yup. She snuck her mother’s cosmetics bag out of the house, and we basically made each other look like clowns.”

“Like the picture of you putting makeup on your mom?”

She wrinkled her nose. “I was a late bloomer. I didn’t really hone those skills until I was about eighteen.”

They read the rest of the sticky notes, each one making her realize her mother’s love really was unconditional. They started cleaning up, and as she pushed to her feet holding the wooden box, a sticky note floated to the floor. She bent to pick it up and saw ladybugs across the top. Her knees gave out, and she stumbled back, lowering herself to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Emerson? Emerson, what’s wrong? You’re shaking.”

The panic in his voice jerked her out of her trance. “Ladybugs” was all she could choke out, and it came on the tail of a half laugh, half cry. She probably sounded a little off her rocker as she said it again, louder and drenched in disbelief. “Ladybugs.”

Baz looked confused.

She held up the sticky note with the ladybugs on it, tears sliding down her cheeks. “This is the note I left in my room that night. She saw it, Baz. My mom knew I was sorry. She knew.” She turned it over in her trembling hand, but fresh tears spilled from her eyes, so she held it out to Baz. “Can you read it?”

“’Course, darlin’.” His eyes were brimming with emotion, too. “You wanted a midnight curfew. I said 11. I want that last hour with you. I’m not ready to lose you to boys and secrets yet.”

She laughed and cried, and he pulled her into his arms. She clung to him. “All these years…”

“I know, baby.” He held her tighter, pressing his warm lips to her cheek.

“I feel like I can finally breathe, and I’m so glad you were here with me when I found it.”

“Me too. More than you know.” He kissed the top of her head. “I wish I’d known about the ladybugs from the start.”

“Why?”

“Because she was with you when you gave birth to Brennan.” He took out his phone and navigated to the picture he’d taken right after she’d given birth. She watched him make it bigger, and there in the tangles of her hair was a bright red ladybug.

“She was there.” Her voice cracked.