Chapter 178

Agnes

Thea’s violin bow glided across the strings, her face so sweet and innocent and utterly concentrated that I found myself blinking back tears.

When Elijah and I had slipped into our seats just moments before the recital began, she had spotted us immediately. The brief flash of relief in her eyes had been worth all the drama with my father and the flat tire.

Now, watching her perform her solo piece, I felt a swell of pride so intense it nearly took my breath away. It was clear that Thea adored playing the violin, and it showed in the intensity of her concentration, in the skill she had picked up just from a few short months of practice.

When the final note faded, there was a moment of perfect silence before the audience erupted into applause. Thea’s face broke into a radiant smile as she took her bow, her eyes seeking us out in the front row. Elijah and I were on our feet, clapping harder than anyone else in the auditorium.

Afterwards, we made our way to the lobby to wait for Thea. I was still shaken by my encounter with my father, his cryptic warning replaying in my mind, but I pushed it aside for Thea’s sake. I’d been absent enough lately. I wasn’t about to be absent from this.

“Mommy! Daddy!” Thea came barreling toward us, violin case clutched in one hand. “Did you see me? Did you hear my solo?”

Elijah immediately scooped her up onto his shoulders. “We sure did. You were amazing up there.”

“The best violinist there,” I agreed, pulling the bouquet of pink daisies from behind my back. “These are for you, sweetheart.”

Thea’s eyes widened as she reached for the flowers. I watched as she buried her nose in the bouquet, inhaling deeply.

“They smell so good,” she sighed. Then she looked down at me from her perch on Elijah’s shoulders, a small frown forming. “I thought you weren’t going to make it, Mommy. My instructor said you weren’t here yet when we were lining up.”

My heart clenched, even more so when Elijah shot me a mildly reproachful glance. “I had a little car trouble,” I explained, which was technically true. “But I promised I’d be here, and I was. I wouldn’t have missed your big moment for anything.”

That seemed to satisfy her. Her smile returned. “Can we get milkshakes?” she asked, looking down at her father.

Elijah laughed. “How did I know you were going to ask?”

We ended up at a diner down the road, a cozy little spot outside of town with red vinyl booths and a jukebox. Thea, still riding the high of her successful performance, bounced in her seat as she examined the menu, even though we all knew she would order the same thing she always did.

Sure enough, when the waitress came, Thea requested a chocolate milkshake and a large order of french fries. Elijah ordered a burger, and I settled for a grilled chicken salad, suddenly aware that I needed to start taking better care of myself again. My stomach rumbled, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten anything all day.

As we waited for our food, Thea chattered excitedly about the recital, recounting each moment as if we hadn’t just witnessed it ourselves.

“And did you see the boy next to me? He messed up the middle part of his song, but the instructor says that’s okay because mistakes are how we learn.” She took a breath, then continued without missing a beat. “Oh, and one girl’s mom made her wear this huge bow that kept falling in her face when she played.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’m glad you didn’t make me wear a bow, Mommy.”

My stomach growled again, and I quickly covered it with my hand. Under the table, Elijah’s hand found mine. He shot me a look as if to say, “I’m worried about you.”

I wanted to give him a reassuring smile, a silent promise that I was fine and that he had nothing to worry about, but I just… couldn’t. Tonight had been an eye-opener that, for the past few weeks, I’d been so consumed by grief and work that I’d nearly forgotten what it felt like to just be present with my family.

As I watched Thea dip her french fries into her milkshake—a habit that made Elijah grimace every time, especially when she got a big glob of chocolate on the front of her dress—I made a silent vow.

I wouldn’t let my grief consume me anymore. I had a family that needed me. That loved me.

And somewhere, I knew my baby girl—the one I’d carried and lost—wouldn’t want me to forget that. She wouldn’t want me to lose myself in searching for her at the expense of the people right in front of me.

By the time we arrived home, Thea was half-asleep. Elijah carried her up to bed while I poured us each a glass of wine.

We met back in the living room later, settling onto the couch with a record playing faintly in the background. For a few minutes, we just sat in silence, sipping our wine.

“So,” Elijah finally said. “Are you going to tell me what really happened before the recital? You mentioned a flat tire, but I know there’s more to the story.”

I took a long sip of my wine.

“My father gave me a ride,” I said, watching his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “My phone was dead, and I got a flat tire. He happened to be driving by and offered me a lift.”

“Your father,” Elijah repeated, and his face twisted.

“Yeah. It was… tense.”

“I can imagine.” Elijah’s expression darkened. He knew the bare bones of my history with my father, although we hadn’t discussed it in depth. I didn’t really like to think about it, honestly. “Did he say anything important?”

I hesitated, dragging my lower lip through my teeth, then said, “Yeah. He said something strange before he drove off. About the bones they found in the cave.”

Elijah stiffened beside me. “What about them?”

“He told me not to believe the DNA results if they say the bones are my daughter’s. That I should ‘do my own research’ before I believe anyone.” I let out a shaky breath and looked at Elijah. “He even implied that I shouldn’t trust you.”

Elijah’s jaw tightened so much I could see a muscle ticking beneath the skin. “And what do you think about that?”

“I think he’s trying to stir up trouble,” I said firmly. “Probably just trying to be cruel. Or he’s a coward, saying stuff that my stepmother told him to say because he’s completely whipped by her. Or maybe both. Probably both.”

But even as I said it, a small voice in the back of my mind whispered that maybe there was more to it than that. The look in his eyes when he’d said those parting words had almost seemed… worried.

“Don’t let him get to you,” Elijah said as if reading my mind, reaching out to take my hand. “You know you can trust me. One hundred percent.”

I nodded. Of course I trusted Elijah. I could never not trust him. “And it’s not like the DNA testing center or the police would lie to the Alpha of Silvermoon Pack, right?” I laughed lightly, even though it was a hollow sound.

“Exactly,” Elijah said, bringing my knuckles to his lips. “If those bones belong to our daughter, we’ll know for sure. And if they don’t... Well, we’ll keep searching until we find the truth.”

My breath caught. Our daughter. He’d never referred to my missing child as his before. Elijah seemed to notice, and his eyes widened slightly.

“I didn’t mean—”

“She is ours,” I cut him off, leaning closer to him. “What’s mine is yours. What’s yours is mine. And if she were here—and perhaps she is, in spirit—I know you’d step up as the best father in the whole world.”

Elijah softened slightly, looking relieved.

I leaned into him, resting my head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry I’ve been so distant lately,” I murmured. “The bags, the Goddess Festival... I’ve been a little obsessed, haven’t I? More than a little.”

“You’re grieving,” Elijah said simply. “And you’re channeling that grief into something productive. Something that might help others. I can’t fault you for that.”

“Still,” I persisted. “I promise that after the festival, after I unveil the bags and get the charity stuff organized, I’ll take more time to relax. To be present with you and Thea.”

Some of the tension seemed to drain from Elijah’s body at my words. “I’d like that,” he admitted. “We’ve missed you.”

I swallowed hard. They’d missed me, even though I’d technically been right there. But not really present, not fully engaged with them.

“I’ve missed you too,” I whispered, realizing how true it was. “More than I even realized.”

Elijah set his now-empty wine glass on the coffee table, then took mine and did the same. He stood, pulling me to my feet.

“It’s late,” he said softly. “And you look exhausted.” He reached up, his thumb brushing over the dark circle beneath my left eye. “Let’s get some sleep in our actual bed for once. No staying up all night sketching. No sleeping on the couch in your office.”

I didn’t resist as he scooped me up and carried me toward the stairs.