Chapter Five

Esmé POV

Luka slammed on the brakes, the car skidding slightly on the loose gravel. I didn’t wait for him to say a word. I threw the door open and scrambled out, my heart lodged in my throat.

The little girl reached the car and collapsed against the rear door, her small chest heaving as she sobbed. Her face was flushed deep, painful red, and her eyes were wide with terror I knew too well.

“Mommy!” She screamed again, her small hands clawing at the window as if she could pull through the glass. “Mommy, please! Don’t go back! Stay with us!”

I dropped to my knees in the dirt, my charcoal coat catching the dust, but I didn’t care. “Sweetie, listen to me—“

Before I could reach for her, a second girl appeared. She was identical to the first—same blonde waves, the same petite frame—but her face was mask of practiced fear that looked haunting on a five year old. She was shivering, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as she hurried toward us.

“Noa, come back!” The second girl cried, her voice trembling but urgent. She reached out and grabbed her sister’s pajamas sleeves, trying to pull her away from the car. “Noa, stop it! That’s not Mommy! Come back before Daddy gets mad!”

“Sweetie,” I whispered, my voice thick with a mix of pity and confusion. I reached out, my fingers gently brushing the hair away from her tear-stained face. “I am not your mommy. Why are you calling me that?”

Noa didn’t pull away. Instead, she gripped the lapels of my coat even tighter, her small knuckles turning white. “You look like her! You have her eyes and her smell!”

“Noa, stop,” the sister pleaded, her voice shaking as she hovered a few feet away, her eyes darting back toward the house like she expected the shadows to swallow her. “We have to go. Now!”

“No!” Noa shrieked, burying her face in the crook of my neck. “Daddy said Mommy was gone….he said she was never coming back. But I knew! I knew Mommy would come back for us. I saw you! I knew it was you!”

My heart shattered into a million pieces. The way she clung to me—with that raw desperate hope. I had lived that hope. I had sat on the steps of foster homes for years, waiting for a car to pull up that never did. I knew exactly what it felt like to believe a lie because the truth was too loud to bear.

“Oh, honey,” I breathed, pulling her into a proper hug, ignoring the dirt staining my only good coat. “I am sorry. I am Esmé. I am just……I was supposed to be your nanny.”

“No! You are Mommy!” Noa sobbed into my shoulder, her voice muffled by the fabric of my coat. “You are! You have her purple eyes….. Daddy said only Mommy has them because they are very rare. He said Mommy is special. And you smell…..you smell like her!”

I froze. Purple eyes?

I had always known my eyes were an unusual shade—a deep, violet grey that made people double checked in the light—but I never imagined it would be the catalyst for a dead woman’s resurrection in the mind of a child.

“Sweetie,” I said, my voice trembling as I tried to pull back just enough to look at her. “My eyes…..they are just like hers, I guess. And I use lavender soap, maybe that’s the smell? But I am Esmé. I—“

“Noa! Lenon!”

The voice cuts through. It was Mr. De La Fontaine.

“What do you think you are doing with my children?!”

His face was masked with fury, his eyes fixed on me with a look that bordered on horror.

“Sir, please,” I said, my voice shaking as I tried to shield Noa’s small body with my own. “She ran after the car. She is upset, she thinks—“

“I don’t care what she thinks!” The smell of expensive cologne and cold rain rolled off him. “Let go of her. Now!”

Noa’s grip on my coat only tightened, her small fingernails digging into my skin. “Daddy, no! Look! It’s Mommy! You said she went away, but she came back! Look at her eyes!”

Mr. De La Fontaine flinched as if she’d struck him. He looked down at me—really looked at me—and for a split second, the rage vanished, replaced by a hollow, haunting emptiness. His gaze locked onto my eyes, and I saw his throat work as he swallowed hard.

“Daddy, you told me only mommy had purple eyes!” Noa sobbed, her voice full of frantic desperate triumph. “You said she was special.”

Mr. De La Fontaine’s face hardened, the stone wall slamming back into place. “Then I guess I was wrong,” he snapped, his voice like a whip. “There is nothing special about this woman. She is a stranger, Noa. And she is leaving.”

“No!!”

“Get inside!” He commanded, pointing back toward the looming house. “Both of you, Now, before I lose my temper on both of you.”

Lenon, who had been standing a few feet like a ghost, immediately obeyed. Her face was pale, her eyes downcast as she reached Noa’s hand. “Noa, come on. Please. Daddy’s mad.”

“No!” Noa shrieked, pulling her hand away and burying her face back into my neck. “I am not going anywhere! Not without mommy!”

I felt Mr. De La Fontaine’s hand wrap around my upper arm, his grip like a vice. He wasn’t just angry anymore; he was desperate to end the scene, to erase my face from his sight. He hauled me upward forcing me to stand, which ripped Noa away from my chest.

“Luka, get her in the car!” He barked, while his other hand reached to Noa’s waist to drag her into the house.

“No! No! Mommy!” Noa screamed, kicking and clawing.

In the chaos of the shouting and struggling, Noa slipped through her father’s grasp, her small bare feet hitting the gravel with frantic crunch.

“Noa!” Lenon screamed.

But Noa wasn’t looking back. She was blinded by tears, her mind set on one thing: escaping the man who wanted to send her “mommy” away. She ran but not towards the house. She ran towards the open gates, towards the main road where morning traffic where beginning to come alive.

“Noa, stop,” I yelled, pushing past Mr. De La Fontaine and sprinting after her.

Everything went in slow motion. I saw the flash of her white pajamas against the gray pavement. I saw a massive black SUV rounding the curve of the road, the driver likely blinded by the morning sun.

The screech of tires was the loudest thing I ever heard.

“Noa!!” Mr. De La Fontaine voice tore through the air, a sound of absolute, soul shattering agony.

Then came the thud.