Chapter 185

Chapter 185
Morgan's POV

I glanced around the hotel garden, appreciating how the afternoon sun danced across the water in the fountain. For a moment, everything felt normal, like I could breathe freely again. Emma's delighted giggles had filled the air just seconds ago as she chased water droplets, her small hands splashing playfully.

"Emma?" I called out, that brief moment of peace evaporating as I realized I couldn't see her anymore. My eyes scanned the edge of the fountain where she'd been playing, but there was only empty space.

I turned to Lilith, trying to keep my voice steady. "Lilith, have you seen Emma? She was just playing by the fountain—"

The words died in my throat as panic surged through me. I rose quickly, nearly knocking over the wrought iron chair, and hurried toward the fountain. My breath came in short, painful gasps, my eyes frantically searching every corner of the garden.

"Emma!" I called, louder this time. The emptiness that answered made me dizzy.

How could she have vanished so quickly? I'd looked away for what—thirty seconds? A minute at most? The stone path around the fountain was vacant, the water still rippling where her little hands had disturbed it moments before.

"EMMA!" My voice cracked as I spun in a complete circle, scanning the hedges, the flowering bushes, the stone benches. Nothing. My heart hammered painfully against my ribs, each beat a reminder of what I couldn't lose—not her, not my light, not the only thing that had pulled me back from the edge of darkness.

Lilith was instantly on her feet, her expression shifting from relaxation to sharp focus. "Morgan, calm down!" Her voice cut through my rising panic with practiced authority. "Don't panic. She probably just went to chase butterflies or look at flowers. You stay here in case she comes back. I'll check the other side of the garden!"

I wanted to scream, to tear through the entire hotel property, to demand every security guard and staff member drop everything and search. But Lilith's steady gaze grounded me. She was right—Emma had a tendency to wander, following whatever caught her curious eye. And as her caretaker, Lilith knew her habits better than anyone.

"Okay," I forced myself to nod, fighting against the wave of dizziness that threatened to overwhelm me. "I'll wait here. She might just be looking at those flowers. You check over there."

I watched Lilith stride purposefully toward the east section of the garden, her tall figure disappearing behind a row of perfectly trimmed hedges. Left alone, I pressed my fingers against my temples, trying to ward off the throbbing pain that always preceded a panic attack. Not now. I couldn't afford to fall apart now.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. I needed to stay functional, to keep my mind clear. Emma needed me to be strong.

"Emma," I whispered her name like a prayer. The child who had somehow found me in my darkest hour, who had spoken to me when no one else could reach me, who had pulled me back into the world with her innocent questions and boundless curiosity. I couldn't lose her. I wouldn't survive it.

Another deep breath, and the garden came back into focus. The pain in my head receded slightly, allowing me to think more clearly. I surveyed the area methodically now, looking for any sign of which direction she might have gone. But the perfectly maintained pathways revealed nothing—no small footprints, no dropped hair ribbon, nothing.

With shaking fingers, I pulled out my phone and dialed Ethan's number. He answered on the first ring.

"What's up, princess?" His casual greeting was like a lifeline in my sea of panic.

"Emma's gone," I said, my voice tight with suppressed emotion. "She is my friend's daughter...We're in the hotel garden, and she was playing by the fountain, and I just turned away for a second—"

"I understand," Ethan cut in, his tone instantly shifting to serious. I could hear rustling in the background, the sound of him getting up. "Which part of the garden are you in? How long has she been missing?"

I inhaled deeply, forcing myself to focus. "We're by the main fountain in the east section. It's only been a few minutes. She was chasing the water, laughing..." My voice threatened to break as I pictured her joyful face.

"I'm mobilizing security right now," Ethan said, his voice steady and reassuring. "Morgan, you did the right thing calling me immediately. Stay calm. Children rarely go far. Is Lilith with you?"

"She's searching the other side of the garden," I said, my eyes still scanning desperately for any flash of Emma's yellow dress among the greenery.

"Good. Stay where you are in case she circles back." There was a firmness in his voice that kept me anchored. "We'll find her, Morgan. I promise."

"I know," I whispered, though the words felt hollow in my constricted throat.

As I ended the call, the full weight of my fear crashed down on me. I couldn't lose Emma. Not after everything. Not when she was the only reason I'd found the strength to return to Los Angeles, to face the Montgomerys, to confront Alexander. Without Emma's unwavering belief in me, I might still be trapped in that silent, empty version of myself.

I remembered the first time she'd found me in the garden of the recovery center, how she'd approached without fear, asking simple questions that somehow bypassed all my defenses.

She couldn't just disappear. Not Emma. Not my light.

I paced by the fountain, my heels clicking against the stone path, marking each second that passed without her. Every instinct screamed at me to run, to search, to tear apart the hotel until I found her. But I forced myself to stay put, knowing that splitting up further would only complicate things. Lilith was right—Emma might return to where she last saw us.

Time stretched painfully. One minute. Two. Three. Where was Lilith? Had she found something? Was Emma okay? The questions pounded in my head with each heartbeat.

I clutched my phone, tempted to call Ethan again, though I knew it had only been moments since we'd spoken. Instead, I closed my eyes, trying to channel the calm strength I'd cultivated over the past three years. Emma needed me to be steady, not frantic.

But beneath my outward composure, terror clawed at my chest. Emma wasn't just Lilith's child whom I'd grown to love—she had become my salvation, my purpose when I had none. After losing my own child, after losing everything, Emma had shown me that I could still feel something beyond pain and rage.

I couldn't lose her too. The universe couldn't be that cruel.

Could it?