Echoes of Secrets (Obsidian MC #7)

Chapter Five

Mitchell

“Mr. Mitchell, I didn’t expect to see you today, especially with it being Thanksgiving.” “I won’t be long,” I tell the kind nurse with a reassuring smile. “Who should I start with today?” “Nineteen,” she replies. “Just a heads up, she’s not in the best mood.” I smile and nod in thanks, then make my way to room nineteen. It doesn’t hit me who I’m visiting until I step inside and see her sitting up in a chair.

“Milly,” I greet her with a smile. “Happy Thanksgiving.” “Humbug,” she grumbles, causing me to chuckle. “Wrong holiday,” I tease. “If I’d known you were my visit today, I would’ve brought you some fudge.”

Peanut butter fudge is Milly’s favorite. I’ve been visiting her on and off for several years now. Usually, it’s later in the day when I stop by the nursing home, but I promised Raven I’d make it to dinner tonight.

“Shut the window,” Milly grumbles. “I’m not trying to heat the outside.” “It is shut, Milly,” I reply softly. “I’ve got a friend here who wants to meet you.”

Milly doesn’t respond as she settles back into her chair. She’s in the advanced stages of Alzheimer’s. I don’t know much about her family or her past, and that doesn’t matter to me. I visit a few different patients, some of whom don’t have family to spend time with them. I come because they need company, even if just for a few hours.

I dig through my bag and pull out the item wrapped in a small blanket. Most of the patients in this home are at some stage of Alzheimer’s. So, I did some research and learned that sometimes, when handed a baby doll, the patients have a flicker of their past in their eyes. Not always, but sometimes. So, I bought several reborn dolls, and I bring one with me every time I visit.

I carefully unwrap the small, lifelike doll and hold it out toward Milly, hoping for some kind of reaction. The soft, weighted baby feels warm in my hands, and I offer it to her gently, watching her closely.

“Look, Milly,” I say softly, “I brought you a little one to meet.”

For a moment, there’s nothing. Milly’s gaze drifts past me, her mind far away in a place I can’t follow. But then, her eyes flicker toward the doll, and I see the faintest shift in her expression. Her wrinkled hands twitch slightly, hesitant at first before she reaches out and takes the doll from me with surprising tenderness.

I hold my breath, watching her. Slowly, she cradles the doll in her arms, rocking it gently, humming under her breath. For a second, I swear I see a spark of recognition as if something in her heart has stirred.

“Milly?” I ask quietly.

She doesn’t answer, but her movements become more purposeful, more fluid. The tension in her face softens. She looks at the doll like it’s the most important thing in the world, and for that brief moment, I wonder if she’s remembering something, someone, from her past.

“Sweet girl,” she murmurs. Her voice rough but filled with affection.

I smile softly. It’s small, but it’s something.

For the next hour, I sit with Milly, letting her care for the doll. Sometimes she talks to it, sometimes she just rocks it silently, but either way, there’s a calm in the room that hasn’t been there before. It’s these small moments that make everything worth it.

Eventually, I stand to leave. “I’ll be back soon, Milly,” I say softly. “Take care of your baby.”

“My Evie is so beautiful,” she whispers as I reach the door.

I freeze when I hear the name Evie. It’s like the universe is torturing me with things I can’t have from every direction.

Turning around, I walk over and kneel beside her. “Evie?”

“Look at her, doctor,” she smiles. “She’s perfect.”

“Mama?”

No way.

“Nurse, look at my Evie. The doctor has just brought her back after her first bath. She’s squeaky clean.”

“Evie?” I say as I stand and take her in.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she asks with fire. “Are you stalking me? Why are you bothering my mom?”

“Milly’s your mom?” I ask.

How have we never crossed paths before?

“You didn’t answer my question,” she says as she flops down on the bed, leaning her crutches beside her. “Why are you here?”

“No, precious girl,” I smile. “I’m not stalking you. I come here as often as possible to visit the patients.”

“Oh,” she says, some of the fire in her voice fading. Her gaze softens, but suspicion still lingers in her expression. “You visit the patients here? My mom?”

“I do,” I reply, my tone gentle but firm. “Milly’s one of my regulars. I didn’t know she was your mom.”

Evie shifts on the bed, glancing at her mother. Milly is still humming softly, rocking the doll with a serene expression that makes it hard to imagine the fiery woman Evie must’ve known growing up.

“She hasn’t mentioned you before,” Evie says, her voice quieter now.

“I don’t think she remembers me from visit to visit,” I admit. “But that doesn’t stop me from coming. She deserves company, even if it’s just for a little while.”

“I visit her weekly,” she says defensively.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” I say, standing next to Milly. “I visit different people each time I come. I don’t ask for their backgrounds, so I don’t know if they have family that come to visit. I guess I do it simply because it makes my heart happy.”

“Well, that’s kind of sweet,” she says, smiling softly. “So, not stalking me?”

“No,” I smirk. “Why? Do you want me to?”

“You wish,” she says, lowering her head.

“Such a pretty baby, my Evalynn.”

Evalynn. A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.

Evie looks at her mom for a long moment before her brown eyes search mine. I don’t flinch under her scrutiny.

“She used to be so sharp,” Evie says finally, her voice tinged with sadness. “The kind of person who’d tell you exactly what she thought, whether you wanted to hear it or not.”

I smile. “That tracks. She told me to shut the window earlier, even though it wasn’t open. I could only imagine the firm bossiness she used to have.”

A faint smile touches Evie’s lips, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “That sounds like her,” she murmurs, her voice tinged with a mix of affection and sadness.

The room falls into a quiet lull, filled only with the soft humming of Milly’s lullaby. Evie reaches down, her hand hovering over her leg as if she’s about to rub away a phantom ache, but she pulls back at the last moment, her fingers curling into a fist.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Evie says finally, her voice breaking the silence.

“And I didn’t expect to see you,” I reply honestly, leaning against the doorframe. “But I’m glad I did.”

Her cheeks flush a delicate pink, and she looks away, fiddling with the strap of her crutch. “Thanks for... you know. Coming to visit her. She doesn’t have many people anymore.”

“She has you,” I say, my gaze steady on her.

Her shoulders stiffen at my words, and she gives a small shrug. “I do what I can. It’s not much.”

“It’s everything,” I reply, my voice low but firm. “Don’t sell yourself short.”

Her eyes flick back to mine briefly before looking away. In that brief exchange, something passes between us. Something I can’t quite name but feel all the same.

“Milly’s in good hands,” I add, gesturing toward her mother, who is still cradling the doll like it’s a living, breathing child.

“She seems to love that baby,” Evie says softly, her gaze drifting to her mother.

“To her, it is her real baby,” I explain. “Right now, she’s back in time, holding you as a newborn.”

Evie nods slowly, her expression distant, her thoughts clearly somewhere far away.

“Well,” I say, breaking the moment gently, “I’ll let you have some time with her. I’ve got a few other patients to visit before I head out.”

“Wait,” Evie says, her voice halting me as I turn toward the door.

I glance back at her, eyebrows raised.

“Thanks,” she says, her voice steady but tinged with emotion. “For being here. For her.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” I reply. “It’s where I’m supposed to be.”

“Well, thanks, anyway,” she says, turning her attention back to her mother. “Mama would be thankful, too.”

I lean against the doorframe, watching them for a moment. I hadn’t expected to see her again, and now that I had, I felt a dangerous pull toward her. One I couldn’t afford.

It would be best for her if I made her hate me. It would be so easy. A few well-placed lies, and she’d see me as the scum of the earth. If we ever crossed paths again, she’d look at me with disgust instead of... whatever this was.

Perfect.

Taking a deep breath, I ready myself for the lie. I’ve done it so many times before that it should be easy by now. But as I think about what to say, nothing feels right. Do I pick at her weight? She’s not stick-thin, but that makes her more stunning, not less. She has the kind of body that’s soft and beautiful, the kind that makes you want to stay close.

Or do I go for her leg? It’s a sensitive topic, no doubt, but even thinking about using it against her makes my stomach turn.

I grit my teeth, frustrated at my own hesitation. This needs to happen.

“Evie,” I call out before I can second-guess myself.

“Yeah?” she says, glancing over her shoulder at me.

My breath catches. The lie on the tip of my tongue.

Here goes nothing.

“What are you doing for Thanksgiving?”

The words tumble out, and I immediately hate myself for them. Instead of pushing her away, it appears that I’m trying to pull her closer.

She blinks, clearly taken aback. “What?”

“Thanksgiving,” I repeat, my tone casual, even though my heart is pounding. “Do you have plans?”

She hesitates, and for a moment, I think she’s going to ignore my question entirely.

“I don’t really have plans,” she says finally, her voice quieter now. “After I leave here, it’s just me. I’ll probably go home and cook something small for myself. Maybe reheat leftovers later.”

Her words sit heavy between us, and I find myself speaking before I can think it through.

“Why don’t you join me and my family?” I ask.

Her head snaps toward me, her brown eyes narrowing. “What?”

“Thanksgiving dinner,” I smile. “It’ll be loud and chaotic, but there’s always plenty of food. You’re welcome to come.”

Her lips press into a thin line, and for a long moment, she doesn’t respond.

“No,” she says firmly. “Thank you, but no.”

I nod, doing my best to look unbothered. “Fair enough.”

Turning toward the door, I shove my hands into my pockets. “Take care, Evie,” I say over my shoulder, my voice as steady as I can make it.

As I step into the hallway, I hear her call out.

“Mitchell.”

I stop, glancing back. “Yeah?”

She hesitates, her cheeks flushing slightly. “What time?”

For a second, I don’t understand what she means. Then it clicks, and a small smile tugs at the corners of my mouth.

“Seven,” I say, leaning against the doorframe. “I’ll pick you up if you want.”

“I’ll meet you,” she says quickly, her tone almost defensive.

“Okay,” I reply, not pushing it. “It’s at the Obsidian clubhouse. You know where that is?”

She nods, her eyes darting to the floor. “It’s just down the road from Em’s house.”

“Alright,” I say, smiling softly. “I’ll see you there.”

As I walk away, a strange warmth settles in my chest. This wasn’t exactly my plan but I can’t say that I hate it.

Images of Evie’s dead body flash in my mind, and I stumble. Shaking my head, I just add it to the images of the rest of my family that I picture dead because of me.

I need to pack my stuff and leave this town before my nightmares become reality.