Chapter 2: When Do You Need Me?

Hailey's POV 

"Mommy, wake up! WAKE UP!" 

Giovanni's scream jolted me out of sleep so much I fell off the couch. My laptop crashed to the floor. Three days of unsaved work potentially gone. Pain moved through my elbow where I'd hit the coffee table.

"What? What's wrong?" I scrambled to my feet, heart pounding, already running towards his room. 

He stood in doorway, tears streaming down his face, his small body shaking. "I had a bad dream. The monster came back." 

My panic shifted into concern. I dropped to my knees and pulled him into my arms. Feeling his heart heart race against my chest.

"You're okay, baby. It's safe. I've got you." I pressed my lips to him dark curls. "The monster can't hurt you. Mommy won't let them." 

"Promise?" His voice was so small and fragile.

I smiled. "Promise."

He clung to me like I was the only thing keeping him together, and maybe I was. For six years, it had just us against the world. No support, no backup. Just me and this terrifying gift I didn't deserve.

I carried him to his bed, he was already getting too big for this, my back ached, and i laid down beside him. His eyes, those beautiful violent-blue eyes that stopped strangers mid-sentence, stared at me in the dark.

"Sing the Star song?" 

"Okay, baby." I kissed his cheek. 

My voice was wrecked from exhaustion, but I sang, it was off key, but it was the only lullaby that would calm him, it was lullaby I'd been singing since the first night we'd spent alone in our tiny apartment. When I'd had nothing but twenty dollars, and secondhand crib.

He fell asleep halfway through, his breath evening out, his little hands still gripping my shirt.

I stayed until I was sure he wouldn't wake up. Then I slipped away carefully, and moved back to the living room.

3:55 AM. The article was due by eight. I had four hours to reconstruct whatever I'd lost and somehow make it sound nice.

The laptop screen was cracked, which of course was expected.

I pressed my palms against my eyes and tried not to how much a new laptop would versus how much I had in my versus how many meals that would take away from Gio.

Breathe. Just Breathe. I could deal with this. 

That's what I'd been doing for six years. Six years of juggling freelance gigs that barely covered rent, of buying groceries with coins, of wearing the same outfits until they had holes in them. Six years of being invisible, exhausted.

But six years of Gio. Six years of his laughter, his questions, his arms around me. Six years of being needed, loved and enough for someone.

Most days, that made it bearable.

Tonight wasn't one of those days.

I got Gio to kindergarten ten minutes later, which meant another judgmental look from Mrs. Griffin at the front desk. 

"Love you, baby." I squeezed him tight, breathing in his shampoo, it was cheap but it still had a floral scent.

"Love you more, Mommy." He pulled away, then hesitated, his little face looking up. "Mommy, can I ask you something?" 

My stomach dropped. I knew where this was heading to. 

"What's happened, baby?" 

"Miss Carter said everyone has a daddy." His small gutted me. "Where's mine?" 

The question hit like a punch. Six years and it still knocked me out everytime.

"You have me," I said carefully. "Isn't that enough?" 

His eyes, those devasting violent-blue eyes of his studied me with such intensity that a five-year-old should not have.

"But everyone has a daddy. Lilly has one, so does Eli, and Ella " His voice got smaller. "Why don't I?" 

Because your father chose someone else before you even existed.

Because he married his first love five months after our divorce, just five months later.

Because I wasn't good enough for him, and I never told him about you because he didn't deserve to know.

"It's complicated, baby." I said, ignoring my thoughts. "We'll talk when you're older."

"You always say that." His lips wobbled. "Don't I get a daddy? Am I... am I bad?" 

"No" I grabbed his shoulders, maybe too hard. " Gio, No. You're Perfect. You're the best thing that ever happened to me. This has nothing to do with you, okay? Nothing."

He nodded, but I saw the doubt. 

The teacher called his name and he ran off, And i sat in my small, drity car after. 

My phone buzzed. Probably a client chasing the article I hadn't finished. I should ignore it. Should drive straight to the library where the WiFi was free and power through the work before I lost another gig.

But the number on the screen wasn't a client.

It wasn't familiar. I answered anyway.

"Is this Hailey Ramsey?" A woman's voice.

"Yes?" I replied hesitantly.

"This Georgina Cruz from the Ramsey & Associations. I'm calling regarding Cryrus Ramsey." 

My father's name hit like a ice water.

I hadn't heard from him in years. Not since the time he left.

Not since he'd proven that his image, his empire, his pristine reputation mattered more than his own daughter.

"What about him?" My voice came out flat. Dead.

"I'm very sorry to inform you that Mr. Ramsey passed away three days ago." She snapped it. "The family has requested your presence at the will reading. Friday at two PM."

My father was dead.

The man who'd abandoned my mother for his secretary when I was eight. Who'd built an empire while we'd lived in a one-bedroom apartment. Who'd sent checks twice a year like guilt could be purchased in installments.

Who'd cut me off completely the second I'd disappointed him.

Dead. I felt... nothing.

"Ms. Ramsey? Are you there?"

"I'll think about it," I said.

"The family insisted I inform you that attendance is mandatory if you wish to...."

"When do you need me?"