Chapter 70: June 13th
Ashley sat at her desk, her fixed blankly on the calendar. The date glared back at her — June 13th. Vanessa’s birthday.
A sharp ache intensified in her chest as memories of her little girl crashed over her in relentless waves. Each one more painful than the last.
Vanessa had been taken when she was just a year and eight months old. Now, four months later, she would have turned two. And Ashley still had no idea where she was—or if she was even alive.
She felt like a failure. A pathetic loser. She’d failed basically at everything she had attempted to do in her life. Her marriage, saving her parents, protecting her child. She was a joke to motherhood, and the crushing weight of that truth pressed heavily on her chest like a rock.
Tears welled in her eyes as she pictured Vanessa’s smile, her laughter, those tiny hands that used to cling to her. How big was she now? Did she still curl up in someone’s lap, or had she outgrown that? Did she call someone else Mommy now?
The thought sliced through her soul like a thousand invisible daggers.
Her mind drifted to the past, replaying it like a haunting movie—from the moment she first discovered the little life growing inside her, to Christian’s rejection and the day he threw them out, to the very first time she held Vanessa in her arms. A bittersweet smile tugged at her lips as she remembered how small, pure, and beautiful her daughter had been. Her whole world had shifted in that moment.
Despite the pain, despite how much Vanessa reminded her of everything she’d lost, Christian’s betrayal, her mistakes, her fears—she still loved her. Fiercely. With every love she could give.
Vanessa had been her light. With her, the darkness faded. With her, pain turned to joy, weakness to strength. Until the day she was taken away, and reverse became the case.