Silent Night, Holy Secret (Blood & Bone Legacy)

Chapter 1

ELLE

“If I ask Santa to bring me my daddy for Christmas, will he know who to bring?”

My hands freeze mid-fold on the blouse I’m packing.

I knew this would be coming someday. Melody sits cross-legged on my bedroom floor, her tiny fingers working to untangle the string of silver tinsel she’s pulled from the box of decorations I let her explore while I pack.

“What do you mean, sweet pea?” The words scrape my throat raw despite my attempt at casual conversation. My heart pounds against my ribs as I place the folded blouse into my suitcase with exaggerated precision.

Melody tilts her head, her copper curls falling across her forehead in a way so reminiscent of him my chest constricts.

The tinsel glimmers in her small hands, catching light from the bedside lamp, almost mocking me with its festive sparkle.

“Santa knows everything important,” I say. “But Christmas wishes are special, and sometimes they take a different kind of magic.” My voice sounds hollow even to me.

Melody nods, accepting my non-answer. “Like your magic computer makes stories?” She points toward my laptop on the nightstand.

“Something like that.” Guilt rises in my throat. “Speaking of stories, I need to finish packing for my work trip. Can you help me by putting those decorations back in the box? We’ll hang them when I get back on Sunday.”

She carefully returns the tinsel to the cardboard box, her small face scrunched in concentration. “Will you come home in time to make Christmas cookies with me and Aunt Jen?”

“Absolutely,” I promise. Three days to fly to Chicago, interview the band—interview him—and return without letting the carefully constructed wall between my two worlds collapse. “I’ll be back before you can sing ‘Jingle Bells’ twenty times.”

She giggles. “So many jingle bells!”

I press a kiss to the top of her head. The scent of her strawberry shampoo centers me.

My phone vibrates with a text from Jen.

Jen: On my way. Traffic on Main St because of the Christmas parade. 10 mins.

My eyes dart to the half-packed suitcase, the scattered toiletries on my dresser, the notebook containing every professional question I could ask Hollow Reign without betraying my history with their lead singer.

Every possible question except the one which burns inside me: why wasn’t I enough to make him stay?

Eight months at Rhythm Magazine—the job that finally gave me financial stability after years of struggling to support Melody through freelance work. The health insurance, the steady paycheck, the ability to afford our small house outside Nashville… it all came from this job.

Melody tugs my sleeve. “Can Mr. Whiskers come to Aunt Jen’s house?” She holds up her stuffed cat, worn from years of cuddles.

“Of course Mr. Whiskers can come,” I say, gathering my toiletry bag from the bathroom. “He’d miss the sleepover otherwise.”

My phone buzzes again.

Jen: Here!

“Aunt Jen’s here!” I announce with deliberate cheer. “Time to grab your backpack.”

Melody races to her room while I zip my suitcase closed, mentally reviewing my checklist. Chargers, notebook, press credentials, anxiety medication. Everything I need to face the man who broke my heart and remains unaware he has a daughter.

By the time we reach the living room, Jen has let herself in with her spare key. She stands surveying our half-decorated Christmas tree with a critical eye.

“You know,” she says as a greeting, “most people finish their trees before Christmas.”

“Most people don’t raise children alone while juggling deadlines and surprise work trips,” I counter, managing a genuine smile for her.

Jen pulls me into a hug. “You okay?” she whispers, her voice too low for Melody to hear.

I nod against her shoulder, unwilling to trust my voice.

“AUNT JEN!” Melody barrels into the room, backpack bouncing, Mr. Whiskers clutched in one hand. “Mommy says we can make Christmas cookies when she comes home!”

Jen kneels to Melody’s level. “Absolutely! What if we make practice cookies at my house? To make sure we get the recipe perfect for Mommy.”

Melody’s eyes widen with delight. “Practice cookies! Yes!”

My phone chirps. “My ride’s here.” I kneel beside Melody, smoothing her curls. “Be good for Aunt Jen, okay? I’ll call you tonight before bedtime.”

Her small arms wrap around my neck, squeezing with surprising strength. “I love you to the moon,” she whispers.

“And back again,” I finish, swallowing past the tightness in my throat. “And every star in between.”

Jen squeezes my arm as I stand. “Don’t worry about anything here. We’ve got everything covered.”

“Thank you,” I mouth, grabbing my suitcase and heading for the door.

“Mommy?” Melody calls after me. I turn, one hand on the doorknob. “If you see Santa, can you tell him about my Christmas wish? To make sure?”

The innocent request cuts deep. I watch the house disappear along with Melody and Jen. To hell with my boss, I can’t do this.

My phone pings with my boarding pass notification. No turning back now.