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I cringe at my own enabling stupidity and scramble up from the ground.

“What are you doing?” he asks, leaning up on his elbows.

I hold my dress together at my breasts with my hand while patting it down around my legs with the other. “Leaving.”

He frowns. “Why?”

I don’t answer because I wouldn’t know what to tell him. So I turn around and walk off back into the woods.

“Where are you going?” he calls out after me.

“Anywhere but here,” I yell over my shoulder. “Alone.”

Every few steps I take, I glance over my shoulder, but he’s not behind me, and he doesn’t appear to follow me. Good. Because I really, really need some time on my own to decipher this mess.

Suddenly, a twig breaks a few feet away. It wasn’t me who stepped on it.

I turn and look around.

“Who’s there?” I ask.

Someone steps out from behind a tree not too far away, and I narrow my eyes.

“What …?” I mutter.

It’s that woman.

“Natalie?” she says, her voice frail, but categorically the same as the voice I remember from a long time ago … from when I was still a little girl dancing in these same woods when the grounds were covered in snow.

And my eyes tear up yet again at the sight of her standing in the shadows, waiting for me to come out.

And I whisper, “Mother?”

Chapter 26

Natalie

My body trembles as she treads toward me, her lips quivering as much as mine. I’m frozen to the ground. I don’t know what to do or what to say. All I can do is stare at this woman in front of me, this woman I’ve tried to find for so long but could never reach. Always disappearing, always out of my grasp.

And now she’s right here in the flesh.

It wasn’t my imagination.

She was always real.

And now she’s here, holding out her hand to me.

Should I take it? Is she really … my mother?

My hand rises, but I hesitate. She hasn’t said a word since she called my name, but anyone could. My name’s been called out many times before by Noah and some of the wives in the huts. Can I trust her?

She glances around skittishly, almost as if she’s afraid someone’s going to find us here, and I look around too to make sure no one does. Then she beckons me again, this time a little more assertively.

I bite my lip and then go for it, grasping her hand.

She holds on tightly and whisks me away with her, through the woods, along the edge until we reach a lonely hut separate from the others, situated right next to the woods and very close to the end of the community’s land. If I squint, I can clearly see the fences that lie beyond the woods from here.

The woman pulls me inside and suspiciously looks around again before closing the door behind us. It’s dark inside, and I stumble backward, almost tumbling over a chair I manage to grab just in time.

The woman looks at me for a moment, her face stark and undecided, before she goes to the fireplace. There she grabs a box of matches from the top shelf and lights it, throwing it into the blocks of wood. It takes a while for the fire to turn into a blaze and for it to properly light the room, and when it does, she turns around to face me.

I gulp as I clutch the table, unsure what to do. Did I make the right choice, or is this woman dangerous?

She fumbles with her hands, stepping in place as though she’s unsure if she should approach me. I feel the same, but one of us has to make the first move.

So I step closer, sliding along the table until I’m on her side. I lick my lips before opening my mouth. “Who are you?”

She looks serious, almost as if she’s upset I asked.

“Why would you ask that? You … you don’t remember?” Her lips tremble. “I’m your mother.”

Tears well up in my eyes. Deep down, I knew it was her. I just needed to hear it from her mouth.

She takes a step closer, and I do too, and within seconds, we’re in each other’s arms, hugging tight. Tears cascade down my cheeks and onto her sweet-smelling lilac dress, the same scent I remember from all those years ago.

“Oh, my baby,” she murmurs. “My sweet Natalie.”

“Mother,” I mutter, clutching her even tighter.

It’s been so long since I last felt her arms around me like that, but for a split second, a sliver of doubt shoots through my mind. How do I know she is who she says she is? How does she know I’m her daughter?

“Wait.” I push back and look her in the eyes. “How did you know?”

She clutches my face with both hands. “Honey, don’t you think I would recognize my own daughter standing right in front of me?”


Tags: Clarissa Wild His Romance