Every sound around me disappeared.
“When?”
“Almost every week.”
I grabbed the railing to steady myself.
“Is she here now?”
Ruth looked toward the hallway.
“I don’t know.”
She turned to Detective Collins.
“I promised her I would never reveal her location.”
“I understand.”
“But she may be in danger.”
Ruth’s expression softened.
“She always believed someone else was.”
My chest tightened.
Even now…
She still believed Felix’s lie.
Ruth led us into a small office.
On the desk sat a volunteer sign-in book.
She flipped through several pages.
“There.”
A familiar signature.
Not Savannah Harrison.
Not Anna Hayes.
Simply…
Nana.
The nickname almost broke me.
Only family had ever called her that.
Only people she trusted knew it.
Ruth smiled sadly.
“She told me once that only her mother used that name.”
Tears filled my eyes.
“Where is she?”
Before Ruth could answer, footsteps echoed down the hallway.
A volunteer appeared in the doorway.
“Ruth?”
“Yes?”
“She’s back.”
Everything inside me stopped.
The volunteer looked toward me.
“She’s in the garden.”
No one moved.
Detective Collins placed a gentle hand on my shoulder.
“Go alone.”
My legs felt impossibly heavy as I walked through the hallway.
Every heartbeat echoed in my ears.
The back door opened into a small community garden filled with vegetables and wildflowers.
A woman stood with her back to me.
She was kneeling beside a patch of lavender.
Her curly hair spilled beneath a knitted hat.
She wore faded jeans and a gray sweater with dirt on the sleeves.
She looked peaceful.
So ordinary.
For a second, I simply watched her breathe.
Ten years.
Ten years had led to this moment.
My voice barely existed.
“Nana…”
The woman froze.
Slowly…
Very slowly…
She stood.
She didn’t turn immediately.
Instead, her shoulders began trembling.
When she finally faced me…
Time disappeared.
She looked older.
There were faint lines around her eyes.
A tiny scar crossed her eyebrow.
Her hair was a little shorter.
But the eyes…
Those pale blue eyes had never changed.
“Mom?”
One word.
Just one.
It shattered ten years of grief.
I crossed the garden before I even realized I was moving.
She ran too.
We collided halfway between the flower beds.
I wrapped both arms around her as tightly as I could.
She buried her face against my shoulder and sobbed like a frightened little girl.
“I’m sorry,” she cried.
“I’m so sorry.”
I couldn’t stop shaking.
“No.”
I cupped her face.
“No, baby.”
“I left you.”
“You were trying to save me.”
“I believed him.”
“I know.”
“I thought if I disappeared…”
“I know.”
“…you’d be safe.”
I kissed her forehead again and again.
“You don’t ever have to apologize for loving your mother.”
We held each other for what felt like forever.
Neither of us wanted to let go.
Eventually Detective Collins approached slowly, stopping several feet away.
“I’m sorry to interrupt.”
Nana nodded.
“I know.”
Collins spoke gently.
“Your father has confessed to threatening you.”
Nana closed her eyes.
“I figured he eventually would.”
“He also admitted hiding your note.”
A tear slid down her cheek.
“I wrote that hoping Mom would find it.”
“She never did.”
Nana looked at me with heartbreaking sadness.
“I wondered why you stopped searching.”
My heart broke all over again.
“I never stopped.”
“I thought…”
She hesitated.
“I thought maybe you believed him.”
“I believed you were alive.”
She stared at me.
“Every birthday.”
“Every Christmas.”
“Every Mother’s Day.”
“I called your phone.”
“I left messages.”
“I searched.”
“I never gave up.”
Nana covered her mouth as she cried.
“I listened to one of your voicemails six months ago.”
I blinked.
“What?”
“I still had the old number connected to an online account.”
She smiled through tears.
“I couldn’t bring myself to answer.”
“Why?”
“I thought if I came back…”
“…he’d hurt you.”
I took both her hands.
“He can’t.”
