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“George was a fellow church-goer. He seemed like a lovely fellow, and for a while, my parents considered him a potential suitor.”
I nod, motioning for her to continue. Ida gulps and looks away, her eyes filling with tears.
“My parents had almost finalized our union… but then I fell in love. I fell for a childhood friend that had just returned from his studies, and when we met again, we knew that was it.”
My ears are ringing as I listen to her story. I’m dreading what I know is coming, and I hate myself for it. I’m not the one that lived through this. If Ida can be brave, then so can I.
“My parents gave Jameson and me their blessing, and we were to be married within the year. I was the happiest I’d ever been, Nyx. Come to think of it, I believe it’s the happiest I’ve ever been, because every moment after that became a living nightmare. George heard of my impending nuptials, and he asked to meet me. He said it was to get closure, to see me one last time. I was young and foolish. I felt guilty, knowing how much he’d wanted to marry me, so I agreed. I never should have.”
Ida pulls her hands away and wraps her arms around herself, her gaze on the window beside us. “Jameson wasn’t happy that I was meeting George, but he trusted me. Besides, George asked to meet me at a restaurant we’d been to before, so I didn’t think much of it. I showed up, and I remember him standing there, a chilling smile on his face. Even then, I felt like something was wrong, but I was more concerned with politeness than I was with my own safety. I should’ve known better. The last thing I remember was finishing the cocktail he’d ordered me. Shortly after that, everything went black. When I woke up again, I was chained to his bed.”
A tear runs down her face and she swallows hard in an attempt to keep her sobs at bay. “He kept me there all night, telling me he had rights to me, because I should’ve been his. He said he’d show me what I’d be missing, and that I’d be his whether I liked it or not. He told me Jameson would never look at me again once he was done with me, and I’d end up choosing to marry him instead.”
She wipes away her tears, her eyes falling closed. “I ended up passing out eventually, my body hurting in so many ways. When I woke up again, I was alone. I got out of there as quickly as I could, wishing to leave it all behind me. I didn’t dare tell my parents, and I certainly didn’t dare tell Jameson. I knew he’d never marry me if he found out, and I was desperate to pretend like nothing happened, like I wasn’t damaged goods. So I stayed quiet. Until I couldn’t. Until I started throwing up every morning, and my mother sat me down to ask me if I could be pregnant.”
I try my hardest to keep my expression neutral, but my heart is breaking. Her case was bad enough as it is, but this? This is unfathomable.
“I told my mother everything, hoping she’d save me somehow. Instead, my parents sent me to my grandmother in the countryside, to hide out as my body started to change. You see, we were very religious, so abortion wasn’t an option, especially not in those times. My parents didn’t even allow me to give Jameson an explanation, and I was miserable. I had no way to reach him, no way to explain. All the while, the baby grew inside me, reminding me I could never go back to the life I once had.”
A tear falls down her cheek and her eyes fall closed. She inhales shakily, and when she looks at me, her gaze is pleading.
“My father took my son from me days after birth, and he refused to tell me where my child went. It wasn’t until he was on his deathbed that he told me. He said he took the baby to the same church George and I met at, the church that resulted in my downfall.”
She looks at me with tears in her eyes. “I can’t get back the life I envisioned for myself, Nyx. But I do want justice. Please, help me. Help me find my baby. Help me with this case.”
I nod and take out my tablet, shutting my brain off as best as I can while she gives me every detail I might need to track down her child.
I didn’t need to, though.
I knew the second she gave me the church’s address.
52
Aria
The sun has set by the time I walk up to the apartment building I’ve come to consider home. I’ve got over a dozen missed calls from Gray, and I can’t imagine how worried he must be, yet I can’t get myself to pick up the phone.
I walked around the area for hours after meeting Ida, trying my best to make sense of the story she told me, trying to think of a way to tell Gray. I can’t…
He’s been searching for his parents for years now. How do I tell him that none of the scenarios he imagined could be as bad as the truth is? How do I tell the man I love that his mother is the woman whose horrific case we’ve been trying to solve? Even worse, how do I tell him that the father he’s been hoping to find… I can’t even finish the sentence in my mind. If it hurts me this much, it’ll destroy Grayson.
Yet I can’t stay silent. Part of me wants to take this to the grave and hide it from him. But I can’t. I can’t do that to him. I can’t make that decision for him.
I’m trembling when I walk into the building, and I’m second-guessing myself all the way up to the penthouse. Part of me wants to run. I don’t want to be the person to tell him. I don’t want to watch his heart break.
I’m shaking as I walk into the house and Gray rushes up to me, alarmed. “Aria,” he says, relief coursing through his eyes. “Where the hell were you?”
His hands run over my body, as though he’s checking for injuries. He’s frantic, and I rise to my tiptoes, my arms wrapping around him.
“Aria, you’re worrying me.”
I lean in and kiss him, cutting him off. I don’t want him to ask me where I was. I don’t want to have to explain. Not yet.
Gray relaxes against me and kisses me back, his hands threading through my hair. He lifts me into his arms, and I wrap my legs around him as he pushes me against the wall. He kisses me with the same desperation I’m feeling, and I don’t want this kiss to end. I whimper when he pulls away, and Gray drops his forehead to mine.
“Where were you?” he asks.
I hug him tightly, hiding my face against his neck.
