Emma's Secret: A Novel by Steena Holmes Page B

or tortured her. And as far as he knew, Jack honestly hadthought this was his granddaughter. The monster was Dorothy, his wife—but then, she was also a victim.
    It was hard to stay angry with someone who loved your child almost as much as you did. His gut wrenched. He never thought of Jack and Dottie in that way. It was easier to paint them into evil villains who stole his child. He didn’t want to think of them as real people who were important to his daughter.
    But the way Emma glowed told Peter he needed to start.
    “What if you had a special nickname?”
    Peter wasn’t sure where that came from or why he even suggested it, but it seemed like a good compromise. Emma cocked her head and smiled. Her fingers tapped against her lips for a moment or two. He could see the wheels turn in her mind. She wanted to please both of them but knew, even at her young age, that it was a precarious position.
    She leaned over, cupped her hands over her mouth, and whispered into his ear, “Can it be Em?”
    Peter stared into Emma’s eyes and thought about it. Em would be acceptable and easy to remember. Em was even what Kathy, Emma’s counselor, had suggested when they discussed Emma’s trying to combine both of her lives into one. Em would be a sign that she didn’t have to choose after all.
    Peter winked and gave her the thumbs-up. She giggled and then leaned over to Jack and whispered into his ear.
    “Well, now”—Jack cleared his throat—“I think that is a good nickname. And easy for my old brain to remember.” He patted her hand as he visibly struggled to swallow.
    This wasn’t easy on him. Peter tried to put himself in Jack’s shoes, to understand the man a little more. He’d lost his wife and the child he thought was his granddaughter all at the same time, while also having to deal with the consequences of his wife’s actions.The publicity surrounding Emma’s return and Dorothy’s death had to have taken a toll on the man.
    Peter glanced at the table where the other two men sat hunched over their coffees, neither one saying a word. The man who spoke to Emma earlier watched them.
    “Those men…” Peter nodded toward the table.
    Jack grunted. “Don’t mind them. They’re harmless. Doug is the one watching us, and then there’s Kenny.”
    “Are those your boys?” Emma piped up. She waved at the men before taking another bite of her donut. “Grandma says Papa only comes to town to be with his boys, and when he’s with them, all he thinks about is—”
    “Hush now, child,” Jack quickly interrupted. “Your grandma’s words don’t bear repeating.”
    Peter had to smile when Jack’s lips quirked, and he shrugged his shoulders. He took another sip of his coffee and realized it was gone. He knew what he was about to do was going to be difficult, but he needed to head into work, and Megan would be waiting for them by now. They’d stayed longer than he’d thought they would.
    He reached across and placed his hand on Emma’s shoulder. “Em, honey, it’s time to leave.”
    Her whole body stilled before she lifted her tear-filled eyes to him. “Do we have to?” she whispered.
    Those four words hurt him more than a jab to the heart would have. He didn’t miss the way Jack straightened in the chair across from him; nor did he miss the way Emma leaned into Jack until she rested against his arm.
    “I’m sorry, honey.” Peter tried to smile, but he doubted it worked. “Your mom is probably waiting for us at home, and I need to get to the office.”
    Her head dropped, and she fiddled with her hands, which had fallen into her lap. Peter glanced over at Jack’s friends and then back at the older man. He had an idea, but he wasn’t sure whether it was the right thing for him to do.
    Having Emma return to them was a dream come true, an answer to a prayer—except the little girl who returned was more like Emmie than Emma, and it was something neither he nor Megan wanted to accept. In the beginning, he’d