41. 41 – Ryder
I cradle Zella in my arms, carrying her up the stairs.
“Put her in the new room,” Maverick murmurs behind me, and I nod. I don’t think any of us want to leave her tonight. Enzo yanks the bedding back as I place her into the bed. Her breathing stutters, and another small sob slips out.
We all exchange looks. She’s been crying in her sleep since she fell asleep a few minutes into the ride home.
Maverick flicks on the lamp as I carefully take her dress off, Enzo handing me one of the soft shirts we bought for her to sleep in. She doesn’t twitch as we change her, lifting the blankets over her and settling into the chairs dotted across the room.
None of us leave.
“Maverick.” He looks up when I say his name, the shadows in his face even more pronounced under the light. “What do you think?”
He sighs. “I don’t know, Ry.”
“Show me,” I demand quietly, and he pulls the photograph he always carries out of his pocket. Reaching for it, I unfold the familiar image, taking in the beaming little girl, Emerson, and his wife, Maria. My eyes flicker between Aria and Zella. “You don’t think…?”
“She recognized something,” Enzo says, his voice cautious. “We all saw it. Her face went pale as soon as she looked at it.”
Maverick’s jaw ticks. “Twenty years,” he says hoarsely.
He doesn’t say any more. He doesn’t have to. We’re all very aware that the girl in the bed could very well be the key to solving the case that we all thought was unsolvable.
The silence ticks on, and we all wait.
“If it’s her,” Maverick says finally. He looks almost ill when I look at him, the guilt carved into his face. “Then I missed something.”
I shake my head. “Your father searched for eleven years, and found nothing,” I remind him. “Give yourself a break, Mav. Even if it is her, you couldn’t have known.”
He doesn’t say anything. We settle down in the seats, unspoken agreement that none of us feel like sleeping tonight.
And we wait.