I nodded, tears coming to my eyes, too. I had known it was mine the minute I saw it.
Molly, who had stood up, returned now with a small glass of amber liquid from the bar on the other side of the room. She handed it to Carolyn who wiped her cheeks, glanced quickly at the shot, and then downed it in one gulp, breathing out and relaxing back into the couch again, her eyes returning to me.
I looked back at Molly who was downing a shot as well. Her eyes got big and she motioned her head to the bottle asking if I wanted one. I shook my head and returned my attention to Carolyn–to my mother.
"How? Where?" Carolyn asked again, only this time her voice was stronger, calmer. "Eden," she breathed out. Her face crumpled. "Did anyone hurt you?" She grabbed at me and I grasped her hands. "Please tell me no one hurt you. Were you safe? Please tell me you were safe." Her voice sounded pained, desperate.
Had I been hurt? Yes. Had I been safe? No, not at all. But I didn't say that because the explanation of both answers was complicated and required more than I had in me to give right at the moment. Instead I said simply, "Hector, I was with Hector."
Carolyn squeezed her eyes closed for a few seconds and then opened them. "You escaped from Acadia," she whispered.
I breathed out. "You saw it on the news? You saw Hector?"
She nodded. "There have never been pictures of Hector Bias, which I'm sure you know, and I didn't know him by the name Hector. But I recognized the description of Acadia. I notified the police on your case, but they said," she moved her head from side to side again, "there were so many bodies . . . so many of them unidentified." Her eyes flew up to mine. "How did you escape before . . ."
"I didn't," I said. "I was there."
Carolyn's eyes grew big with shock. "You were . . . But how? How did you survive that? And how did you find me?"
"I'll tell you all of it, all I can remember anyway." Taking her hand, and relishing the fact that I was touching my mother, I continued, "I want to know what you know as well, and I have so many questions, too." I hoped Molly didn't really see the need to call anyone, especially the police. I wasn't ready for that course of action yet. I needed time to prepare.
Carolyn gripped my hand and nodded her head. "Yes, Eden, whatever you need. Eden . . . my daughter . . ." She started to cry and as she looked at me, her cries turned to sobs. Molly sat down on the couch and leaned forward to hug Carolyn. I watched them for a moment and then they both grabbed my shirt and pulled me toward them. We sat crying and hugging as the world somehow continued to spin around us.
**********
Twilight descended on Cincinnati as we sat together on the poolside patio. All around me potted flowers perfumed the air and the water sparkled in the dwindling sunlight. Soon the curtain of night would be closed. I turned to my mother and Molly. "And that's where I've been living for the past three years, with Felix and Marissa. I've been teaching piano. I even have a few more clients now, I make some money. . ." I trailed off as I took in their shell-shocked expressions.
It had been the very first time that I'd uttered a word about Acadia since I stumbled away from it that day . . . and though I'd relayed it all in a colorless voice, my emotions carefully tucked away, for me, it was another small survival. I let out a big breath.
"My God!" Molly said. "That's . . ." She swung her eyes to Carolyn. "She's been ten minutes from us for the past three years now."
Molly's statement hit me in the gut and I could tell it affected Carolyn the same way. I wasn't sure how to feel. In one sense, the knowledge that we'd been so close and not found each other brought a certain grief with it, but in another sense, if I had found my mother right away, somehow, I'd have missed out on my time knowing Felix. And I couldn't wish Felix away, I couldn't.
Carolyn grabbed for my hand again and squeezed it. "Oh, my sweet girl, you lived through hell, Eden. Truly, you survived hell." Grief passed over her face, but she took a deep breath, paused, and continued, "Like I said, I went to the police when I heard about what happened at Acadia, but of course, your body wasn't found there . . . I knew though, I knew that Hector Bias was the man who had taken you, even though they could never identify him to show his face on the news. I thought my deepest fears had come true—that he had killed you at some point." Her eyes squeezed shut for a few beats before she opened them again. "Everything about Acadia just sounded so familiar. Hell, truly hell." Her eyes filled with tears for the hundredth time since I'd begun my story.
I lowered my eyes. "Not all of it was hell," I said. "Sometimes I was scared, and I was very lonely . . . for a time. But," I raised my eyes to look at her, "some of it I wouldn't give up for anything in the world."