There she was.
My baby.
Except she wasn’t a baby anymore.
She was tall enough to reach the table without standing on her toes.
Her cheeks had lost their toddler roundness.
She looked at me with the same bright blue eyes I remembered from the day she was born.
“Chloe.”
My voice collapsed.
For a moment, she didn’t move.
She studied my face as though she needed to make certain I was real.
Then she walked toward me.
“Mommy.”
I started crying.
She placed her arms around my shoulders.
I leaned forward as far as my restraints permitted.
I could smell strawberry shampoo in her hair.
It was such an ordinary smell.
Yet it felt more precious than anything I had experienced in five years.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”
She pulled back.
“Why are you sorry?”
“Because I couldn’t come home.”
She looked confused.
“Aunt Leah says you didn’t do the bad thing.”
