Chapter 03

Three years passed… three damn years, so slow I could barely call it living.

I pushed the door open while balancing the beer glasses, careful not to spill a single drop. I'd done it so many times I was used to dodging the drunk guys who always showed up to make my job harder.

Loud music mixed with the unbearable stench of piss and sweat.

Professional, composed. That's what I'd been for three years, working as a waitress and saving nearly every cent of my paycheck for a future I still dreamed about with my missing daughter. After I left the hospital, I refused any help from the doctor who'd tried to kill me. He'd spend the rest of his life wondering, dreading my next move, never knowing if I'd hand him over to the police or not.

From millionaire heiress to waitress at a roadside bar with a fake ID. This wasn't the life I'd dreamed of for myself.

“Skay, you forgot my drink.” The person on the other side of the bar called out to me; that's who I was now.

“Coming right up, just give me a minute.” I pushed through the door again just as my phone buzzed in my pocket.

I glanced back, making sure Tomás wouldn't catch me taking a call in the middle of my shift. Three years working under him, and he'd made it his personal mission to make my life miserable.

I ran to the bathroom, checking behind me every couple of steps, feeling everything crumble around me. I'd lost count of how many times that phone had rung, and every single time, all I heard was a flat “no.” Sorry, we haven't found her. My chest burned as I answered, pressing the phone to my ear, hoping for something that would change my day.

“How are you holding up, Skay?” The detective's voice had a way of following me even in my sleep, but this time there was something different in it; I could feel it.

“You didn't call to ask how I'm doing.” My voice came out in a hushed whisper; I knew one wrong move and I'd lose my job. “Just tell me what you found.”

“I found your daughter.”

Silence dropped over me instantly; I stood frozen, listening to my breath speeding up. My eyes burned; it had been so long since I'd cried that I'd forgotten what it felt like, but the tears fell anyway, and I prayed this wasn't a dream.

“Is that true? Where is she?”

“Stay calm.” He gave the order; my hands shook so hard I nearly dropped the phone. “She was adopted by a compelling man, Skay. That's why it took me so long to find her. He keeps every detail of that little girl's life locked down tight. You won't be able to get her back.”

“What do you mean I can't get my daughter back?” I faltered, hearing my voice crack, twisting the edge of my apron between my fingers. “She's my daughter. How can a mother not be allowed to keep her child?”

“You're smarter than that.” He cut me off. “I shouldn't have to remind you that, as far as the world's concerned, you're dead, and that little girl is an orphan with no living parents. That means you have no legal rights to her.”

“I don't mind what you think or what you say; I just want to find my daughter.” My fists clenched, and I had to force myself not to slam them against the metal door in front of me. “Just tell me where she is.”

Someone pounded on the door. Tomás's voice echoed from the other side. My heart raced in an uneven rhythm.

“Open the door, Skay, I know you're in there.” He pounded harder this time; my palms went sweaty, my breath coming short. “If you're not out here in the next two seconds, you're laid off.”

I threw the door open, the rusty hinges slamming hard against the wall. Tomás made a sound, almost a growl, when he looked me in the eye and saw the phone in my hand.

“I warned you if I ever caught you on that phone again.”

“Screw your warnings.” I screamed at him, the scream I'd swallowed for years just to keep that job. “I'm in the middle of an important call, and you are not going to stop me. Go ahead and prepare my termination, you idiot.”

“What did you just say?” he asked as I shoved past him, knocking his shoulder.

I turned back, looking him dead in the eye, and raised a hand for him to shut up. Tomás froze, stunned. In three years, this was the first time I'd ever stood up to him with that much nerve.

“I'm on the phone,” I said, turning and glancing back at him over my shoulder. None of it mattered anymore; I’d found my daughter, so I didn't need that damn job anymore. “Meet me at the highway in ten minutes,” I told the detective, “and don't screw me over this time. You're going to tell me everything you found because I literally just lost my job.

I ended the call, forced a smile at myself, gripped the phone tight, and kept walking, even though my breath was failing me.

I actually just lost my job.