Chapter 4
Lily's trying to be so quiet as she crawls back into that prop box. Her little shoulders shake with every sob she's holding back, and I watch her press her tiny fist against her mouth. She looks like a hurt puppy hiding in a corner.
I'm rushing toward her before I even think about it, wanting nothing more than to scoop her up and tell her everything's gonna be okay. But my hands just pass right through her trembling body.
My baby. Mommy's here. I wanna hold you so bad.
I reach for her tear-stained cheeks, desperate to wipe them dry, but there's nothing I can do. I'm floating here completely useless while she shivers all alone in that cramped space.
Why can't I even comfort my own daughter?
When I really look at her, I mean really see her, my heart just breaks. She's gotten so skinny. Her little face looks hollow, and her eyes don't have that spark anymore. Ryan's been feeding her nothing but stale bread for who knows how long. How's a three-year-old supposed to survive on that?
She's been hungry for so long. She needs real food, needs milk, needs those Saturday morning pancakes I used to make.
God, I can still picture our weekend mornings. Lily would bounce around the kitchen in her princess pajamas, insisting she had to "help Mommy cook." She'd get flour absolutely everywhere. I used to get so frustrated cleaning it all up. Now I'd give anything to make her pancakes every day for the rest of forever.
If I could do it over, I'd make you a million pancakes, sweetheart.
Lily's rubbing her empty stomach with one hand and walking over to the windowsill. There's this empty plate sitting there from our old tradition where I'd leave her little cookies for midnight snacks.
She's waiting for me to put pancakes there. She doesn't know Mommy's never coming back.
I'm just floating here like some broken guardian angel, trying to make noise, trying to give her any sign that I'm here, but I can't do anything.
Watching Lily huddle there with hunger written all over her face, Stella's words from last night hit me. Wait. Didn't she say she was gonna come back for Lily? She was being cruel about it, sure, but she did promise.
Stella said she'd come. Even though she hates me, she wouldn't hurt a kid, right?
I glance at the clock. It's already afternoon the next day. If Stella really meant what she said about picking up Lily, where is she?
Am I being stupid here? Thinking someone who can't stand me is gonna save my daughter? But who else is there?
I take one more look at Lily curled up on that bare mattress. I gotta go check what's happening at the studio. Maybe they're making plans. Maybe they're on their way over.
I have to know what they're thinking. Even dead, I need to make sure Lily's safe.
Please. Even if you hate me, don't take it out on Lily. She's just a little kid.
Leaving Lily alone in that house feels like ripping my heart out, but I have to know. I drift through the walls and out into the blazing LA sunshine. It's still burning bright, but I can't feel any warmth anymore.
I follow the same route I've taken a million times to Blackstone Studios. Back when I was little, riding in Dad's car. After I got married, on those rare days Ryan let me visit family. Every single trip filled with this mix of hope and dread.
Maybe today's different. Maybe Lily being in danger will remind them we're family too.
The studio building's right there ahead of me, looking exactly like it always has. Before I turned seven, I used to run through these hallways while everyone called me "little princess." Now it feels like I'm looking at some stranger's castle.
I can hear laughter and jazz music floating down from the top floor screening room. That's Stella's favorite music. They're having a party.
Part of me hopes I'll find them frantically getting ready to rescue Lily. Part of me's terrified they haven't given her a second thought.