Chapter 36
More Than All the Stars
Maliyah
The hours until six o'clock dragged. I tried to rest but couldn't. Tried to watch TV but couldn't focus. Kept looking at my phone, at the photos of Lucas and Zoe, wondering if this was a mistake.
What if they were scared? What if Lucas saw through all of it and knew I was lying about the work trip? What if Zoe cried?
At five-thirty, Felicity arrived with a makeup bag.
"Okay," she said, spreading supplies across my bathroom counter. "Let's make you feel a little more like yourself."
The concealer helped. She applied it carefully around the worst of the bruising, blending and layering it so the sickly yellow-green was less obvious. My left eye was still swollen partially shut, but at least my right eye looked relatively normal.
"You look beautiful," Felicity said, squeezing my shoulder gently.
I looked like someone had beaten the shit out of me and tried to cover it with makeup. But it was better than before.
Reed had set up the iPad on the kitchen table, white wall at my back, and angled so there was a light behind me, casting me in a shadow—witness protection lighting for the win. He moved to the living room, giving us space but staying close enough to help if needed.
Hopefully this would make sure my face was less visible.
Felicity had told them I was sick and wouldn’t be able to talk, so Caden was with them and would help read my chat messages for me.
"Ready?" Felicity asked, iPad set up on the table.
No. But I need to do this.
I hit call. The screen flickered. Then Zoe's face filled the screen, taking up the entire frame.
"Mama!"
Her voice—that sweet, high-pitched four-year-old voice—broke something in my chest. Tears burned behind my eyes before I could stop them.
I waved, tried to smile around the wires. Opening a chat window on my phone so I could keep the FaceTime screen on my iPad, I texted Caden who was standing off to the side:
Hi baby. I miss you so much.
Caden read it aloud, his voice steady though I could sense he was shook up.
He’d stayed with the kids so Felicity could visit me in the hospital—this was his first time seeing me because of it.
I could sense his shock and his rage was clear as day.
Guess the lighting didn’t work as well as I thought it would.
Lucas appeared beside Zoe, pushing into frame. His face was serious, guarded. My observant, cautious boy.
"Aunt Fliss said you’re sick. But when I’m sick, I can still talk. How come you can't?" he asked immediately.
Leave it to kids to have no filter.
I got hurt at work. Doctors had to fix my jaw. But I'm okay. I promise I'm okay.
"You don't look okay," Lucas said flatly.
God. My smart, honest child.
I look scary, I know. But it doesn't hurt as bad as it looks. And I'm getting better every day.
"Does your face hurt?" Zoe asked, leaning so close to the screen that I could only see her forehead.
A little. But the doctors gave me good medicine.
"Are you coming home soon?" Lucas's voice was smaller now, younger. Vulnerable in a way he rarely showed.
My fingers shook as I typed:
Soon. As soon as I can. But I need you to be patient and help Aunt Felicity and Uncle Caden. Can you do that for me?
"Yeah," Lucas said. "I can do that."
"I'm being really helpful!" Zoe announced. "I helped make pancakes yesterday and I only spilled a little!"
That's my girl.
"Mommy?"
I nodded at her to tell me what was on her mind.
She whispered, "Will you be mad if I tell you that Uncle Caden’s pancakes are better than yours?"
I exaggeratedly threw my hands up, trying to get a giggle out of my kids.
My thumbs flew across the screen: Lies! LIES! My pancakes are the BEST!
But as Caden's eyes darted from my message to the children's eager faces, his mouth curved into that mischievous grin I'd seen a thousand times.
Instead of reading my protest, he cleared his throat dramatically and announced, "Your mom says she already knew this and is actually glad you've finally discovered how much better my pancakes are.
She says mine have the perfect golden-brown edges that she can never quite achieve. "
My eyes popped open wide enough to make my bruised skin sting, and I frantically texted him, thumbs practically smoking: You will pay for that!
I shot Caden a death glare over the iPad, but of course, my sweet traitor of a daughter—oblivious to the adult conspiracy unfolding—just nodded her little head, her dark curls bouncing as she said, "Oh!
Okay, well that's good then!" Her gap-toothed smile beamed through the screen, innocent and completely unaware of the betrayal.
This was absurd. I needed to regain control before Caden corrupted my children further.
Changing topics! How was school this past week?
I talked to my kids for a few more minutes, though they did all the talking. Their words blurred together. I caught fragments—Zoe's library stickers, Lucas's fall schedule—but exhaustion dragged at me like an undertow.
There was a pause in the chatter and I tried to focus back in. “Mama?”
Yes, baby?
Zoe’s quiet voice came through. "Can we go home now? I miss you and I want to be home with you." My throat closed up—or tried to. I couldn't sob with my jaw wired shut, couldn't make the sounds my body wanted to make.
Soon, sweetheart. Soon
Zoe pressed her small palm to the screen. "I love you, Mama." I matched her hand with mine, screens and miles between us.
I love you both so, so much. More than all the stars.
"More than all the stars," they echoed together. The screen went dark. And I broke.
Silent tears streamed down my face, painful against the bruises. My jaw throbbed as the tears fell; the pain was sharp, but not sharp enough to stop them. I couldn't sob, couldn't cry out, could only sit there with my chest heaving and my body screaming and my heart shattering.
Felicity moved toward me on one side, Reed on the other. I could tell neither wanted to overwhelm me. They each placed a hand on my shoulders, gentle and grounding.
Felicity kneeled in front of me. "Hey. You remember when we were kids, and dad used to travel a month or two at a time for work?"
I nodded, confused at why she was bringing it up.
"Remember how mom would take us for adventures and take pictures of us? Then when dad got home, we'd have all these pictures we would share with him of what we did. And he would do the same for all the things he did."
I wiped my face carefully with tissues Reed handed me.
Where are you going with this?
"Let's do that now." Felicity said, encouragingly. "I'll take the kids around while you're recovering, and send you daily videos. You can talk to them every night about what we did."
I straightened my shoulders slightly, my breath coming a little easier as I imagined Zoe's gap-toothed smile in short videos and watching Lucas's antics and laughter. I looked at my sister—really looked at her—and felt the weight of what she was offering. Sniffling, I pulled her into a tight hug.
Felicity held me for a while, whispering comfort and love in my ear. We'd been each other's only family since losing our parents a decade ago. I knew without a doubt that I could trust her to care for my kids while I recovered.
When it was time, I walked her to the door, slow and stiff—but determined. The apartment fell silent after she left—just me, Reed, and the weight of everything I couldn't say.