Colette

Colette and David had a plan. He would sit on the park bench, opposite where Libby was supposed to meet her. It was cruel to play this game with Libby, but they had to make sure she was alone and find out if they could trust her with Mikayla’s identity in the future.

She sat at the top of the walkway where she had a view of the dog park below. The only flaw in their plan was they had instructed to meet Libby at the dog park and how could David be near if he didn’t have a dog. With Elizabeth begging for a pet, they felt that it was the least she deserved after them being away from her for the week.

Armed with an adult Golden Retriever they called Goldie, David sat in his sunglasses just far enough away, reading a newspaper. He had been on the bench for a half an hour, and as he stood to walk Goldie and stretch his legs, Libby approached the park and sat on the bench nearest the entrance.

David quickly looked up at his wife, her stature transforming the second her mom came into the picture. Quickly, her cell phone rang, and it was her husband. “Cole, honey, remember we have a plan.” He was far enough out of earshot. Walking toward his wife, he grabbed her hand and exited the park.

“Let’s drive around and see if we detect any surveillance before we leave, David.”

“Sure, sweetness.”

They circled the park several times and didn’t see anything unusual. “I think she came alone.”

“You’re right.” Grabbing her hand, David said, “But the question is, how are you doing?”

“She looks good. My mom looks really good. She has aged but considering what I’ve put her through ...” Colette hadn’t seen a picture of Libby Miller since she was abducted, then chose a life with David. However, she could pick the woman out of a crowd. Sure, she’d aged and been through a crisis, losing Mikayla so long ago, but it didn’t show. Colette’s understanding of her mother was far reaching; she knew her mother’s wounds were skin deep.

“No, Cole. I refuse to let you beat yourself up. It was not you.” He pulled over in a parking lot of an abandoned warehouse. “What did you say to me the day you realized Mikayla was dead to you?”

“That we saved one another.”

“Exactly. So please, don’t ever say you caused your mom this heartache. It was him.”

She had let this part of her life go years ago, and to this day, she didn’t understand how fresh the ache was in her heart. She thought of Liam and Elizabeth and how the time away from them stung like the worst bee sting imaginable and had a completely different outlook on her mom. Throughout the years, she justified her absence from her life as partially her mother’s fault. When deciding to become Colette, she cried for seven days over this part of her choice. In the end, she decided that somewhere deep down, her mother had to have known about the abuse. It was obvious; of course, she was looking back without blinders through her own memories. Was she fair to her mom all those years ago?

* * *

Libby

She felt like a fool, sitting at the dog park, waiting for her long-lost daughter to return. Libby watched everyone intently and wanted to talk to every woman in her early thirties who was in the park, but she knew that would raise suspicion. According to the letter Taylor had gotten from Mikayla, that was the last thing she wanted. She was sure Mikayla was there, though; she sensed it.

Before she left early in the morning, Adam’s apprehension of this absurdity played into the fight they had. “It’s obvious she left us to pick up the pieces of her life, mourning her for all these years. How can we support this? We should call Fallon and have the Royal Canadian Mounted Police bring her in.”

“I don’t think so, not now. How can we do this to our daughter without hearing her story?”

The hatred in which he looked upon Libby was never present in the almost forty years of marriage together. “I don’t fucking care. The fact is, our child faked her death, letting us believe she was dead all this time.”

“And what if she’s happy, and we ruin it? We raised this girl, so she had to have a good reason. What if she was running away from something?”

“I grieved for our baby. The pain, she could have stopped it, Libby.”

“She was young. Maybe she didn’t have a choice.” Again, she always saw the good in her kids.

In his forty years with his wife, he had never raised his voice or sworn in her presence like he just had. He wanted his children to understand a woman should be respected in any relationship. Adam’s face was unrecognizable to Libby, as if a stranger had taken his form. “I will not report our daughter, but don’t defend her to me. Ever. Go on your little jaunt but don’t expect me to understand or care.”

As she thought of her fight with Adam and the fact that Mikayla was clearly not coming today, she walked back to her car. She’d make this trip a million times if it meant she’d get a glimpse of her daughter.

* * *

Taylor

She was not sure how long she could hide from her husband, but she wasn’t fooling anyone; understanding he’d never let her go that easily. Blake had a strong hold on her in the form of their son. It never occurred to her that Dexter could become like his dad, abusing women as he did. Now that she knew she was not Blake’s first victim, she understood he needed help beyond what she could give. Taylor always hoped it would end when he apologized; that he would come to his senses and turn from his ways. He never became too violent and always knew when to stop or so she told herself that.

Learning the truth from Mikayla made her wonder who was Blake’s first victim. Should she tell Libby and Adam what was happening? They’d understand the reasons Mikayla fled from her family twelve years ago.

She heard a bit of the fight her in-laws had concerning Mikayla’s disappearance. If she told Libby and Adam about the reason Mikayla stayed in Canada, he would go with Libby and scour the Canadian countryside looking for their daughter.

She had just poured herself some coffee as she watched her mother-in-law reverse out of the driveway when Blake called her. Hesitating to pick it up, she was aware he’d track her down one way or the other, and the “consequences” would be worse than ever.

“Hello,” she said in a tone that she’d never have normally greeted him in.

“If you are done pouting, I expect you home tonight with my son intact, dinner on the table, and ready to talk through the shit you pulled last night.”

She never thought she was a strong woman, and that was why she felt she deserved to be in this position in the first place. She could never have stood up to Blake; however, knowing about Mikayla, she was ready.

“And if I said no?” she replied with confidence as though he was the average husband taking sass from his wife.

As the silence continued over the line, he finally said, “Okay, Taylor, you win. I’m an ass. Is that what you want to hear?”

“No, not at all. I want respect.” But even as she said that phrase, the one thing she demanded after every one of his episodes, it fell on deaf ears.

“Honey, I love you. Please come home. I will make it up to you. I promise.”

“It’s the same crap all the time. How can I believe you?”

“Because I need you to love me. I need you in my life. I’m nothing without you.”

Knowing he was incapable of change, she still said, “I’ll be home tonight, but I’m tired. I will have your sister’s kids all day. Can you just pick up a pizza?”

“Sure and, Taylor, I will see you tonight, six p.m. And please know I love you.”

She couldn’t say it, not anymore. Did she still love him? Could she still love him?