Maggie perched on the edge of the green sofa as she took in the trailer. It was small, but warm and homey like her apartment had been before boxes filled it. Pictures lined the wall across from her. They revealed the progression of her mother’s life from a baby, to a pigtailed six-year-old, to a beautiful teen dressed as Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz. Then, Maggie realized a lot of the photos were of her mother dressed as some character in one play or another over the years.

Her mother had been so beautiful and happy. So completely different than the woman who sat in the institute now.

Glass figurines of dragons, fairies, unicorns, and other mythical creatures filled the curio cabinet across from her. A basket of yarn and a half-completed blanket lay on the seat of the green recliner across from her. It was what she’d always pictured a grandmother’s home to be like—those few times she’d allowed herself to dream of such a thing as a child.

A small orange cat leapt into her lap and purred when Maggie ran her hand over its back. A dalmatian slept on the floor by the stove and, judging by the scent filling the home, chocolate chip cookies were baking in the oven.

Maggie didn’t know what she’d expected to find here, but it hadn’t been this. She’d assumed her mother had fled a horrendous home life and that was why no one had reported her missing. She didn’t see any signs of misery here. Instead, she saw pictures of a loved girl whose mother stood hugging her in more than a couple of the photos.

“Here you go, hon.”

Maggie blinked and tore her attention away from the pictures. She accepted the mug of steaming, vanilla-scented coffee Marsha handed her. “Thank you.”

Marsha settled onto the recliner and set her coffee down on the table beside her. Folding her hands, Marsha twisted them in her lap as she leaned forward. “Your mother, is she… is she…?”

“She’s alive,” Maggie said.

“Oh, thank God,” Marsha breathed and dropped her head into her hands.

Maggie couldn’t give this woman any false hope. “She’s not well.”

Marsha lifted her head and folded her hands in her lap again. “Is she dying? Did she send you because she needs a kidney transplant or something? I’ll do it. I’ll give it if I can.”

Maggie almost choked on her tears. Why had her mother left this place? This woman? Was Maggie missing something here? But she didn’t sense anything cruel or manipulative about Marsha. All she sensed was a woman desperate to hear about the daughter she hadn’t seen in twenty-five years.

“She didn’t send me,” Maggie said. “And what’s wrong with her isn’t so easily fixed.”

Marsha took a deep breath. “Go ahead, honey. Tell me what happened.”

Maggie focused on the cat as she told her grandmother about what happened to her mother. She hated being the one to reveal this to her, but she couldn’t not tell her. Marsha had a right to know what became of her daughter. She kept the reality of vampires from her, but she did tell Marsha that Mindy believed a vampire raped her.

Tears streamed down Marsha’s face when Maggie finished speaking. “My poor baby,” Marsha murmured and pressed her hand to her heart. “My poor, beautiful baby.”

Maggie didn’t know what to say, so she continued to pet the cat as Marsha absorbed Maggie’s words.

“And what of you, honey?” Marsha asked after a few minutes. “Who took care of you all these years?”

When the cat jumped from her lap, Maggie felt unreasonably abandoned by the animal. “I was a ward of the state. I mostly took care of myself.”

Fresh tears streamed down Marsha’s cheeks. “That’s not right.”

“That’s life, and it wasn’t bad. I learned a lot.” Maggie lifted her mug to sip at her coffee. “My mother doesn’t want to see me, I bring back too many bad memories, but maybe, she would like to see you.”

“Probably not, but I would like to see her.”

“Why didn’t you report her missing?” Maggie blurted. Perhaps it was a scab better left alone, but she had to know something of what happened here. Something of why no one ever claimed her mother, or her.

Marsha lifted her mug before setting it down again. “I didn’t report her missing because she chose to leave.” More tears pooled in her eyes, and she dabbed them away with a handkerchief. “I was only seventeen when I had your mom. Her father left me a year after she was born; he died a year later in a motorcycle accident. I tried to do my best with Mindy, to give her everything I could, but it wasn’t enough. Mindy always had big dreams.”

Marsha waved a hand at the pictures of Mindy dressed in different costumes. “From the time she was a child, she was in every play the school and town put on that called for someone of her age. She was the most talented and beautiful in every production, and I don’t say that because I’m her mom, everyone said it. Mindy was going places, they all agreed. We’d see her star on the Walk of Fame one day.

“When she turned fifteen, the two of us started fighting more than before, just as many teenage daughters do with their mothers. She was ashamed of me, of this place, of the little we had, and she wanted more. During that time, she worked, and she saved every dime she earned.

“April fourth, the day she turned eighteen, we got into our last argument. She meant to quit school and go to New York that day. I pleaded with her to graduate, and when pleading didn’t work, I threatened her, but what could I do? What good were my threats? She was eighteen. I couldn’t stop her.

“So, she packed her things as I screamed at her, and then I cried. Her last words to me were, ‘I hope never to see you again.’ My last words to her were…” Marsha’s voice broke on a sob. She wiped her eyes with her handkerchief again.

Back in control, Marsha continued. “My last words to her were, ‘If you leave, don’t come back.’ I didn’t mean it, but I couldn’t think of anything else to say to stop her from going. It didn’t work. Mindy never looked back at me as she walked out the door for New York City. I only knew she took the bus because I followed her to the station. It was the last time I saw her.”

Maggie swallowed the lump in her throat as Marsha’s sorrow beat against her. What had her mother been thinking to throw this away? But then, Maggie realized Mindy had been like so many other stubborn teens with big dreams. An act of violence shattered all those dreams before her mother ever had a chance to live them.

“The bus must have stopped in Boston,” Maggie murmured. “The police found her on April fifth.”

“The bus did stop in Boston,” Marsha confirmed. “I checked the schedule. And Mindy would often talk about visiting Boston too. She dreamed about seeing all the cities, so she probably decided to get off the bus to look around.”

It had been the worst decision of her mother’s life, but if she hadn’t left here and stopped in Boston, then Maggie wouldn’t be sitting here now.

“When is your birthday, hon?” Marsha asked her.

“December nineteenth,” Maggie whispered, her voice choked with emotion.

Marsha leaned forward and rested her hand on Maggie’s knee. “We all make choices. Some of them we regret for the rest of our lives. Others lead us somewhere better, but they are all our choices and we must own them. What happened between your mother and me was our fault. What happened to Mindy in Boston was the fault of a despicable man, but none of it, none of it is your fault.”

Tears of gratitude and relief pooled in Maggie’s eyes. She’d half expected this woman to hate her too. What had happened to her mother wasn’t Maggie’s fault, but she was the result of the brutal act that shattered Mindy. Marsha had given birth to Mindy, she’d raised and loved her, but Maggie was a stranger.

“I hoped, every day, I hoped she would call me again and let me have the chance to tell her I hadn’t meant it and she could come home anytime. I never changed my number, never moved, in case she should try to contact me again. I tried to find her when the web started becoming popular, but I’m not much for computers. I’m glad you are,” she said as she patted Maggie’s knee. “I always hoped to turn on my TV and find her staring back at me on some show or movie, but I never saw her again.”

“Because of her rape and mental status, my mother’s face was kept off the news after she killed the nurse, but missing people posters were originally passed around to try locating her family. I’m amazed no one from town saw her.”

Marsha waved her hand and sat back. “The world was a much smaller place twenty-five years ago.”

“It was.”

“Why don’t you tell me about you? What do you do? Are you married? Do I have great-grandchildren?” she asked excitedly and Maggie smiled.

“No husband and no children. Maybe one day.” She ignored the twinge in her heart as thoughts of Aiden once again intruded. She was here, with her grandmother, and she refused to let his memory ruin it. Still, she found herself scratching at her arm as she told Marsha about her life.

Later, Marsha broke out photo albums and treated Maggie to more pictures of Mindy as she progressed through her life. By the time Maggie left, she had plans to return. Instead of heading south right away, as she’d originally intended, she would come here to spend some time with Marsha and get to know her better. She already liked her grandmother more than she’d allowed herself to hope she would.

She had no mother, but she may end up with a grandma. Maybe her journey would end here, and she would stay. Backing out of the driveway, she headed down the mountains. Maybe she’d trade in city life for snow-capped mountains and rural life.

She’d either go insane or discover she loved it. Either way, she had no concrete plans for her future and nothing holding her back.

The tears sliding down her face surprised her. She hadn’t realized she was crying until she felt one drip onto her hand. She’d been so determined to leave everything behind, but the minute she did, there would be no chance of seeing Aiden again.

You haven’t seen him in two weeks anyway, you idiot. He’s moving on, and so are you.

Maggie kept that thought firmly in my mind as the setting sun kissed the mountain peaks.