Chapter 2: The Necklace
The driver stopped moving.
So did I.
My mother stared at Milo as though he had just spoken a language she hadn't heard in years.
“You're mistaken,” she said.
Milo laughed once.
It wasn't a happy sound.
“You still lie exactly the same.””
My chest tightened.
I looked between them.
“Mom, what is he talking about?””
She ignored me.
“Milo, you need to leave.””
“Why?”” he asked.
“Afraid someone will recognize me?””
My mother glanced toward the street.
A bus passed.
A woman walking a dog slowed down when she noticed the argument.
My mother immediately lowered her voice.
“Not here.””
“Then where?””
She looked at me.
“Kate, get in the car.””
“No.””
Her eyebrows lifted.
I had rarely said no to my mother.
Not because I was obedient.
Because I had never needed to.
We simply didn't fight.
She bought me what I wanted, gave me whatever space I asked for, and stayed out of my life.
But this was different.
“You know him,” I said.
She remained silent.
“Milo says you're his mother.””
“He doesn't know what he's saying.””
Milo's jaw tightened.
“I know exactly what I'm saying.””
My mother looked at him.
“You were six.””
“I was nine.””
Her expression flickered.
Milo stepped closer.
“You told me you'd come back.””
My mother closed her eyes.
Just for a second.
When she opened them, the woman standing before me looked older.
Not physically.
Something else.
Something inside her had cracked.
I looked at Milo's necklace.
It was a thin silver chain with a small blue stone hanging from it.
I'd seen it every morning.
I'd never thought about it.
Now my mother was staring at it like it was a loaded gun.
“Where did you get that?”” I asked.
Milo touched the stone.
“She gave it to me.””
My mother whispered, “Stop.””
“When I was little,” Milo continued.
“She told me to keep it until she came back.””
I looked at my mother.
“You gave him that?””
“Kate, you don't understand.””
“Then explain it.””
She didn't.
Milo did.
“She wasn't always rich.””
My mother's face hardened.
“Enough.””
“No,” Milo said.
“She owes me the truth.””
I swallowed.
“What truth?””
He looked at me.
For the first time, I noticed how similar his eyes were to my mother's.
Same dark brown.
Same slight crease beneath the left eye.
I'd spent months sitting beside him and somehow never noticed.
Milo pulled the necklace over his head.
“Look at the back.””
He handed it to me.
I turned the pendant over.
There were tiny engraved letters.
E.H.
My mother's initials.
And beneath them, a date.
March 14, 2013.
My hands went cold.
“Mom…”
She looked away.
“What happened on this date?””
Nothing.
“Mom.””
She finally answered.
“That was the day my life changed.””
Milo's voice was quiet.
“It was the day she left me.””
I stared at him.
My mother walked toward the car.
“I'm taking you home.””
“I want an answer.””
“You're getting one.””
“Now?””
She turned.
“Not here.””
Milo laughed bitterly.
“That's what she always says.””
My mother flinched.
I stepped between them.
“Milo, how do you know her?””
He looked at me for several seconds.
Then he said, “Because she used to be my mother.””
My throat tightened.
“What does that mean?””
He looked toward the sedan.
“You should ask her why she changed her name.””
My mother went completely still.
I frowned.
“What name?””
Milo pointed at her.
“Eleanor Hayes isn't the name she gave me.””
My mother grabbed my shoulder.
“Kate. We're leaving.””
I pulled away.
“No.””
Her voice sharpened.
“Get in the car.””
“I said no.””
The driver looked uncomfortable.
Milo backed away from us.
“Kate, you should go.””
“Why?””
“Because she's going to tell you I don't exist.””
My mother snapped, “Milo!””
He smiled sadly.
“See?””
Then he turned and ran.
I started after him.
My mother caught my arm.
“Don't.””
I looked at her.
“Why?””
Her grip loosened.
And in that moment, her phone rang.
She pulled it from her coat.
The screen showed an unknown number.
She answered.
“Hello?””
A man's voice came through so loudly that I could hear it.
“Eleanor, he's found Kate.””
My mother went pale.
The voice continued.
“And if he tells her who her father is, we're all finished.””
My mother's eyes met mine.
She slowly lowered the phone.
Neither of us spoke.
Then I asked the only question that mattered.
“Who is my father?””
My mother looked toward the corner where Milo had disappeared.
May you like
And whispered,
“The same man who's been looking for you.””
