I didn't goto school. Instead, I lay in bed, wrapped around Lilly—not in a sexual way. She didn't speak one word. Mid-day, she got up to use the bathroom, but as soon as she was done, she aimed for the bed, curled into a tight ball again, and that was it. I returned to my big spoon position, one arm under my head and the other tightly around her belly. The first sign of life was when Lilly took my hand, which was splayed on her flat stomach, between hers and placed a kiss on the inside of my palm. In response, I pressed my body even closer. The weight in my chest had gotten heavier as I watched the minutes tick by on the alarm clock. The feeling of losing her had been growing all day.
I've ignored the buzzing coming from my desk. I have a decent idea who is blowing up my phone and what it's about, but I refuse to let go of Lilly. Something deep down tells me that I may not have many more chances.
It's dark when someone knocks. After the last bathroom break, I moved us out of the dual fetal position—my back couldn't take it anymore. I'm sitting against the headboard, and Lilly is tucked under my arm, with her head on my chest. Our fingers are intertwined on my lower abdomen, and I'm playing with the strands of her hair with my free hand.
"Come in."
The door slowly swings inward, and Mom's face appears in the gap. She zeros in on her daughter immediately but doesn't enter. "Sweetheart?"
When Lilly doesn't react, her eyes shift to me, asking a million questions without uttering a single word. Drawing in a deep breath, I flex my fingers around Lilly's. "Babe?"
"Hmm?" Her eyes still don't focus, but this is the first sound all day.
I tilt my head down. "Cal? Mom is here." I squeeze her hand again and rub my other up and down her back, mentally preparing myself to have to shake her out of this lifeless state.
Lilly's head slowly turns toward the other side of the room.
Thank fuck, she's back. I think.
"Hi, sweetheart." Mom's tone is wary.
"Hi," Lilly croaks. Why am I surprised at the rasp in her voice? She hasn't had a drop of water all day.
My mother's eyes flick to mine before she addresses the girl in my arms again. "Dad and I were wondering if we could talk to you."
My mouth is already open to protest when she amends, "Both of you."
I shift away from Lilly to see her entire face and for her to see me as well. When I'm sure I have her attention, I speak. "It's up to you, babe. Your decision."
Out of the corner of my eye, it's apparent that Mom is about to argue, but I throw her a glare. She pinches her lips together.
Lilly searches my face, and I smooth my features in an attempt to appear confident and strong—two of the last emotions I feel at the moment.
"Okay." It's just a whisper, but Mom hears it and expels a long breath.
"We'll wait for you in Dad's office. Whenever you're ready."
I give my mother a curt nod in acknowledgment without averting my eyes from Lilly.
Ten minutes later,we find Dad behind his desk and Mom in the single chair in his office, leaving the sofa for us. I expect to see my father's usual stone-cold demeanor. What I find, instead, makes a pit the size of the Grand Canyon form in my stomach. His hands are clasped tightly on top of the desk—to the point of the skin being stretched over his knuckles. His shoulders are stiff, and under the desk, I can see his leg bouncing. A small but—for my father, the man without emotion—clear sign that something is very wrong.
Leading Lilly to the two-seater, I pull her down next to me. I'm in the same position as the day we met with Madeline, my ankle crossed over my knee and my arm stretched over the backrest. Yet, I don't feel the confidence I'm attempting to portray. My insides churn in anticipation of whatever my parents are about to drop on us. It can't be good if they asked both of us down here.
Dad clears his throat and makes quick eye contact with Mom. I follow his gaze and see her nodding at him. Lilly misses the exchange, being focused on her hands in her lap. I pull her into the crook of my arm, needing the contact more than her at the moment. Once she is settled, I hold my other hand out, palm up, and she automatically interlaces her opposite hand with mine. Both my parents follow our movement but remain mute.
The silence stretches, and I stroke my thumb over our intertwined fingers. It's as much to calm my thrashing pulse as it is to reassure her.
"You have both seen the article that was published this morning," Dad begins.
A low growl builds in my throat.
"Other news outlets have already followed suit. We have received multiple requests to comment throughout the day." Lilly's eyes fly to my Dad's as he speaks, but he continues, "After long deliberation with Agents Lanning and Camden, we have issued a statement this afternoon."
"Why would you give them the fucking satisfaction to react? This has Kat written all over it," I burst out, barely able to contain the pent-up rage that has surged back to the surface.
Lilly's head jerks to face me. "How do you know? Why would she do that?"
Instead of making me answer, Mom leans forward and places a hand on Lilly's knee. "It was easy to force the paper to give up her name. All I had to do was threaten them with defamation and other legal actions. You are the victim of a crime, and this has nothing to do with it." Lilly's eyes flicker to me as Mom mentions her being a victim.