Chapter 8
Eight
ALEX
Dear Adam,
Today, I found out we’re having a little girl. I’m going to name her Freedom Grace, but I’ll call her Grace. Since we met through Freedom, it seems right to name Grace after her aunt. I am terrified, but I’m also excited to bring this new life into the world. I know doing this alone is going to be challenging, but I know I’ve made the right decision. I wish things were different so you could be here to do this with me. I’ve thought about running to you and telling you everything a million times. But that would only bring unnecessary danger to our Gracie. I can’t let her live a life on the run, constantly looking over her shoulder. For that reason, I have to choose her over you. I have to let you go.
I hope one day I’m able to explain everything to you. I hope one day you’ll forgive me. Maybe one day, the three of us can be a family. Until then, I’m going to continue to write letters you’ll never see and pray that one day, all of this pain will be worth it.
Love Always,
Isa
With blurred vision, I stare at the paper in my trembling hands. I want to hate her for running away from me. It’s one letter. One glimpse into what was going through her head thirteen years ago does not justify what she did. It does, however, destroy the image I’ve had of her running and never looking back.
She did look back.
I flip through a couple of pages of maternity photos, some of Marissa by herself and some with her sister and a boy who looks to be about the same age Grace is now.
The two pages after that are dedicated to Grace’s birth. There are hospital records, a hospital bracelet, footprints, and other items. Another piece of paper sticks out from behind one of the photos, so I carefully pull the scrapbook page away from the plastic and the paper falls out, revealing another letter.
Dear Adam,
8lb 8oz 21in long
She’s absolutely perfect!
She has dark hair, just like you.
I don’t have the words to describe how much I miss you. It’s been nine months since I saw you and seven since we last spoke. Not knowing where you are or how you’re doing is slowly killing me. I want to wake up from this nightmare, wake up to a world where you’re right here doing this with me.
Maybe one day, I’ll forgive myself.
Love Always,
Isa
After reading this second letter, my tears fall freely. I rarely cry, but seeing what I’ve missed has definitely brought up many different emotions. I know what it’s like to have an absent father; I would never willingly put a child through that. I should have been there for her birth and for every milestone since. The rest of this scrapbook is a highlight reel from each month up until Grace’s first birthday. I should have been there. I should be in all of these pictures.
As much as I want to be pissed at Marissa for all of the years that were stolen from me, I can’t bring myself to hate her any more than I hate myself right now. I could have done a lot of things differently. I should have never put myself in a position to be framed for crimes I didn’t commit. I should have worked harder to clear my name. Maybe I could have worked harder to find her.
I pull open the next book, desperate to see more of what I missed. This scrapbook is labeled “Years One through Five.” A few pages in, there is a picture of Grace as a toddler. This picture looks to have been taken in a church. Grace is in a black frilly dress with the young boy from the maternity pictures. He’s standing behind her, and it appears she is walking while holding onto his hands. The writing below the picture indicates this is her first step and with this new milestone comes another hidden note.
Dear Adam,
I’ve had an emotional day. My father passed away last week. His funeral was today. I’ve lost so much I’m not sure I can take anymore. I need you. I need Jen and Freedom. I need someone besides my sister to talk to when things are bad. I could really use one of your hugs or one of Jen’s horror movie marathons right now. I would even settle for one of Free’s lousy pep talks that somehow make things worse. I didn’t just lose you. I lost my best friends, my mom, and now, I’ve lost my dad. Today was the first time Mom has spoken to me since I found out I was pregnant. She practically disowned me for refusing to tell her anything about you. If telling her is the thing that gets you caught, I could never live with myself.
Oh yeah, this note was supposed to be about Grace, not about me. She took her first steps today. She took exactly three steps before she took off running, and I don’t think she’s stopped since. This is going to be another fun adventure that I wish you could be here to see.
Love Always,
Isa
I’ve spent this whole time focusing on what her leaving did to me and I didn’t even stop to think about what it might have done to her. This whole time, I just assumed she’s been happy and living her best life without me. She’s lost so much. No, she didn’t lose it. She gave it up to protect me. I know it’s not easy being a single mother because I was raised by one. If it weren’t for my grandparents, I’m not sure my mom would have made it. But Marissa? She didn’t have that because she chose to protect me. I was too focused on my own pain to ever imagine she was hurting, too.
I continue looking through the scrapbooks. With each one, there are more missed moments and memories I never got to be a part of. I stare at the tired eyes of Marissa in a picture of one of Grace’s birthday parties and I feel bad for her. She shouldn’t have been forced to do it all alone. Pulling up my phone, I get her contact info up on my screen. I should call her. I should apologize for being so hard on her. I didn’t realize how hard it was for her. I click off the screen and put my phone down.
No, she didn’t have to do it alone.
She chose that.