Whatever your daughter said made him overwhelmingly happy.
Scarlett took a moment to let herself enjoy the relief flowing through her spirit on that front, at least. Haddie hadn’t been cruel. On the contrary, she’d brought the boy joy. She’d said something that elicited such a strong reaction from him, he hadn’t been able to contain his elation.
Scarlett started her car. The worry that clouded her mind returned as she pictured Millie in her mind, recalled the moment she’d stood watching her from the hall, the surety that had filled her heart.
How could it be true though? How?
You might be imagining things, Scarlett.
Yes, it’d been an overwhelming few days. Her mind could very well be playing tricks on her. She remembered losing her dad when she was just a little girl. She remembered how after his death, she saw him everywhere. In the man walking on the sidewalk as their car drove by. In the profile of the cashier at the grocery store right before he fully turned her way. She suspected it was a common phenomenon when you lost a person. And for all intents and purposes, she had just experienced the loss of Kandi all over again. But she had to find out if there was any merit to the feeling that had gripped her just an hour before. She had to speak to Millie’s mother. Immediately. This could not wait. She owed it to Kandi.
Scarlett pulled up at the church, her heart sinking when she noticed that there were only a few cars in the lot, Vicky’s not one of them. She glanced at the clock on her dashboard. Six thirty-seven. Damn. If the meeting had lasted an hour, then everyone, including Vicky, would be gone by now. She got out of her car, walking toward the building. Likely, she’d passed Vicky as she headed for home, and Scarlett would have to drive back to her house if she wanted to speak with her. But first, she’d check inside the building just to make sure.
She pulled the green door open, the scent of incense meeting her nose, the cool solemnity that all churches seemed to hold greeting her. At first, she thought the room was empty, but then she spotted a woman sitting in one of the pews, head bent forward in prayer. Just as Scarlett noticed her, the woman turned toward her. Vicky Schmidt.
A look of surprise came over Vicky’s face as she stood, turning toward Scarlett.
“I didn’t see your car in the lot,” Scarlett said as she approached.
Vicky shook her head. “I got a ride with Sister Madge. My car’s in the shop.” Her brow dipped. “Is Millie okay?”
“Yes. Millie is fine. No, she’s more than fine, Vicky. She’s so lovely, and Haddie is so lucky to have her caring for her.”
“Oh, well. Thank you. She’s always been a happy child. Highly spirited, if you know what I mean.”
Highly spirited. Like her mother? A lump formed in Scarlett’s throat and she swallowed around it.
“I came to ask you something and”—she bit her lip, glancing to the side—“I understand that this might sound odd and . . . personal, but . . . I have to know.”
Vicky frowned. “Okay.”
“Millie said you and your late husband had her later in life. But . . . was she actually adopted?”
Vicky’s gaze flickered with surprise, two spots of color rising in her cheeks. “I’m sorry?” she asked, her voice cracking. “Whatever gave you that idea?”
Scarlett came closer, watching Vicky’s face. “Millie looks very much like someone I once knew. The body they found in the woods two days ago, Kandace Thompson? She delivered a baby before she died.” She paused, her voice lowering to a mere whisper. “I’m wondering if that baby was Millie.”
Vicky let out a small gasp, sinking down into the pew. Scarlett’s heartbeat quickened as she came around the bench to sit next to the woman.
Vicky gripped the back of the pew in front of her. For several weighty moments, she stared up at Christ, hanging on the crucifix at the front of the church. “We tried so hard to have a baby,” she finally whispered brokenly.
Scarlett stilled, a silent moan rising inside. She’d been right. Oh, Kandi, oh my God, what happened?
“Year after year after year. I wondered what I was being punished for.” She looked down, her hands twisting in her lap. “Then one winter this tiny baby was left on our porch, the umbilical cord still attached.” She looked at Scarlett, tears glittering in her eyes. “Like an answer to our prayers.” She looked down again, her voice growing stronger. “I knew it belonged to one of those girls. It must. And I knew what happened to children born at Lilith House. But that tiny, tiny baby, she appeared perfect. No mark of sin.”
Horror settled in Scarlett’s stomach, Camden’s story rushing through her mind.