Chapter 134: Borrowed Time
Chapter 134: Borrowed Time
ANNA SERRANO
Suddenly, shockingly, surprisingly, Hermione launched herself at me, throwing her small arms around my neck and hugging me with desperate tightness.
And then she started crying—deep, wracking sobs that shook her whole small body.
"No, Mom!" she cried out, her voice muffled against my shoulder but still clear enough to understand. "I'm so sorry! What I did was so wrong! I'm so, so sorry!"
I wrapped my arms around her immediately, pulling her close, feeling my own tears start to fall as emotion overwhelmed me. I patted her hair, smoothing it down gently, rocking her slightly like I used to when she was smaller and easier to comfort.
"It's okay, baby," I murmured, my voice thick with tears. "It's okay. We're okay."
"I shouldn't have done that," Hermione continued through her sobs, the words tumbling out in a rush like she'd been holding them back for weeks. "You must have been so hurt and pained. I'm so selfish. I only thought about what I wanted, not about how it would make you feel. I'm sorry, Mom. I'm so sorry."
She pulled back slightly, sitting in front of me on the bed, her face red and tear-streaked but open in a way it hadn't been in weeks.
"You've always been enough for me," she said earnestly, looking directly into my eyes with an intensity that reminded me she was far more perceptive than most six-year-olds. "You're more than enough. I love you, Mom. I love you so much."
We hugged again, holding each other tightly, and I patted her back rhythmically, trying to soothe both of us, trying to anchor us both in this moment of reconnection.
Finally, Hermione disentangled herself from my embrace and wiped her face with both hands, leaving streaks across her cheeks that would have been comical if the moment hadn't been so emotionally raw.
"I thought you hated me now," she admitted quietly, her voice small and vulnerable. "Because of what I did. I was so disappointed in myself. I thought I'd ruined everything between us forever."
"No, baby," I said firmly, cupping her face in my hands so she had to look at me, had to see the truth in my eyes. "You are still my baby, no matter what you do. Nothing you could ever do would make me stop loving you. Nothing."
I saw her eyes wander around then, darting to the side, looking at her hands, clearly contemplating something. She was working up the courage to say something, wrestling with whether or not to share whatever was on her mind.
"Do you have something to say?" I prompted gently. "You can tell me anything, sweetheart. Anything at all."
Hermione took a deep breath, then looked up at me with an expression that was both guilty and determined.
"Mom," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "Abel came to my school today."
My entire body went rigid. I felt my heart skip a beat, felt ice water flood through my veins.
"What?" The word came out sharper than I'd intended, almost a shout. I forced myself to take a breath, to moderate my tone. "He came to do what?"
"To... to see me, I think," Hermione said, her words coming faster now, rushing to get them all out. "I don't really know why. But he came to the school specifically to see me. He said he was worried about me, that he wanted to make sure I was okay."
She looked at me with those wide, honest eyes.
"I don't want to keep anything away from you anymore," she said firmly. "From now on, I'm going to tell you everything. I trust you, Mom. And I'll stay away from him like you asked. I promise."
My heart was pounding so loudly I could hear it in my ears, could feel it hammering against my ribcage. I pulled Hermione closer to me, wrapping my arms around her protectively, almost possessively.
Is Abel getting attached to my daughter? The question burned through my mind with terrifying clarity. Is he starting to suspect? Is he putting pieces together? Is he getting close to discovering the truth?
I hugged Hermione tightly—too tightly, probably, but I couldn't seem to loosen my grip. It felt like if I held her close enough, Abel couldn't reach her, couldn't take her from me, couldn't destroy the life we'd built together.
My phone rang suddenly, the sound loud and jarring in the quiet room, cutting through my spiraling thoughts like a knife.
I reluctantly released Hermione from my embrace and reached for my phone on the bedside table where I'd set it down when I first entered the room.
Sherry's name flashed on the screen.
I picked it up and pressed it to my ear, trying to calm my racing heart. "Hello?"
"Anna!" Sherry's voice came through immediately, pitched high with urgency and something that sounded like alarm. "Are you not online right now? Have you not been checking your phone? Your notifications?"
"No, I've been talking with Hermione," I said, confusion cutting through my anxiety about Abel. "Why? What's wrong?"
"Check the comments under the new trending post about your charity opening," Sherry said, her words coming fast and urgent. "And the ones on your BelleNova opening party posts. Check them now, Anna."
"Comments?" I repeated, still not understanding why she sounded so panicked. "What are people saying? What's happening?"
"Just check it!" Sherry insisted, her voice rising. "Check it right now!"
I rolled my eyes slightly, feeling a bit of my earlier anxiety dissipate into annoyance. "It's normal to get hateful comments as a public figure, Sherry. You know that. I don't have time to sit around reading negative feedback and wallowing in self-pity. People are always going to have opinions."
"No!" Sherry's voice cut through my dismissal like a whip crack. "The comments are hateful, yes, but this isn't about your charity work or your fashion designs or anything current. Anna, you need to listen to me."
She paused, and I could hear her taking a breath, could hear the genuine fear in her voice when she continued.
"It's about your past," she said, each word dropping like a stone into still water. "About Anna Whitmore. Someone is posting about who you used to be, about your history, about everything you left behind. And it's going viral, Anna. It's spreading everywhere."
My heart stopped. Actually stopped for what felt like several seconds before lurching back into motion, beating so hard and fast I thought I might be sick.
My hand started to shake, making the phone tremble against my ear.
"What?" The word came out as barely a whisper, my throat suddenly too tight to produce proper sound.
Around me, the room seemed to tilt slightly, the comfortable space that had felt safe just moments ago suddenly feeling like a trap, like walls closing in.
Hermione was looking at me with concern now, her small face scrunched with worry as she watched my expression change, watched the color drain from my face.