Page 51 of Remember Me

“I want to take Maddie with me.”

She screws up her face. “Darling, are you kidding? A yacht is hardly the place for an impetuous, sickly child, and Sheldon has no patience for kids.”

A short, tense moment of silence follows. Then, a wicked smile crosses Kayla’s face.

“Just leave her with your babysitter.” She fires me a snide look. I remain stone-faced despite the rage that’s fueling me to explode.

Finn looks at me imploringly. “Scarlet, I know it’s your day off, but would you mind watching Maddie for a few hours?”

I agree. There’s nothing more I want to do than spend time with my daughter. Except... spend time withbothhim and her.

A sudden fury comes over me. I now more than ever need to find the person who took them away from me. If I find them, I may kill them.

CHAPTER 34

Skye

“Let’s go already,” barks Kayla as Finn lifts Maddie into his arms.

“I love you, sunshine.”

“Come home soon, Daddy!” She affectionately cups her tiny hands around his handsome face.

Finn kisses the top of her head. “I will.”

Kayla scoffs. “Seriously, Phineas, what part of not being late don’t you understand?”

“Okay, okay.” Kissing Maddie one more time, he sets her down and looks at me. A mixture of frustration and worry flickers in his eyes.

I give him a reassuring smile. “Finn, don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on her. We’re just going to low-key it and stay inside.”

“Thanks,” he murmurs as Kayla hooks her arm in his and smirks at me.

“Have fun.” The noxious woman leads him to the front door after he and Maddie exchange a final affectionate goodbye.

My heart sinks to my stomach as they disappear and I hear Finn’s Land Rover drive off.

“Scarlet, are you okay?” asks Maddie, taking my hand. “You look sad.”

I must be wearing my gloom on my face. My precocious child is so perceptive.

I nod and squeeze her hand. “I’m okay, sweetie.” The warmth of her little hand in mine radiates through me. My spirits lift. My daughter is indeed a ray of sunshine.

Her face brightens with a hint of mischief. “Scarlet, let’s play hide-and-seek!”

I mull over her suggestion. The thought of her having another asthma attack while hiding, unable to be found, makes me pass on that idea.

I have a better one. Arts and crafts. “How ’bout we do some coloring? We can make pictures to give to your daddy when he comes back.”

“Okie dokie! I’ll go upstairs and get my crayons.”

She scampers off. I’m grateful she’s amenable to the sedentary idea. A few minutes later, we’re seated side by side at the kitchen island. Set out on the granite counter is her big box of Crayolas, and two sheets of paper, which I tore out from her sketchpad.

“What are you making?” I ask as she starts to outline an oval shape with a black crayon.

“A face.”

“Oh. Who are you drawing?”