A Secret Worth Keeping

Chapter 16

Lizzie's POV: I could feel Hope watching me throughout the rest of the day. There was something about it that told me that she was waiting for the perfect opportunity to pounce, to demand answers, the rest of the story, because as much as she tried to hide it, I knew Hope hated feeling unprepared, feeling as if she had only been given some of the information instead of all of it, which was of course the heart of the problem. 

I had promised to tell Hope everything, and Hope always held me to my promises. 

This time would be no exception.

I knew I couldn't avoid it anymore, especially not now that I felt as if our cover was hanging by a thread. It looks like we're going to be stuck in Mystic Falls indefinitely, and the longer I put it off, the moodier and angrier Hope would be.

Rummaging around in the pantry, I furrowed my eyebrows before smiling as I found an empty jar. "Found one", I announced, my smile softening as my daughter squealed and clapped her hands. Quickly finding a screwdriver, I punched a few holes in the lid before handing it over to Sophie. "Well, what are you waiting for? Let's go", I told her, trying to ignore the childlike excitement pooling in my stomach. Grabbing an apple from the fruit-bowl, I pulled my pocketknife from my pocket before following her outside to watch her run around the backyard.

"Mommy, look! I found some", she shouted, pointing toward the fireflies.

"Be gentle, sweetie", I called after her as someone walked up behind me. 

"Are you eating the fake fruit again", she asked, raising her eyebrows to the apple in my hand, causing me to eye the apple uncertainly. 

"Mommy! Mommy, look", Sophie shouted, running across the yard before holding up the glass jar to show off the firefly flying around inside.

"That's nice, sweetie, but...", I paused, tilting my head to the side. "He looks a little lonely. Why don'y you go catch him some friends", I suggested, causing her to grin as she darted off again.

Sitting the jar down on a nearby table, I stared down at the apple once more with a small sigh. "Dammit", I sighed, placing the plastic fruit down. 

"You didn't want her, did you", Hope spoke up, breaking the silence. "You didn't want her, and then you felt guilty about it", she continued, causing me to fall silent as my gaze drifted toward the jar once more. 

"I thought it was my fault", I shrugged, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Lizzie, victim blame is not healthy-"

"Yeah", I scoffed, cutting her off. "Cause who in their right mind is stupid enough to fall for the same trick twice, right", I laughed bitterly, causing her to sigh. "You're right. I didn't want her. I didn't want anything to do with her", I nodded, my body tense as the memories threatened to wash over me. "I didn't want her and it was if that thought had poisoned her...I doomed her before she even had a chance", I whispered, blinking the tears from my eyes.

"What are you talking about", Hope frowned, shifting her position slightly. 

"She came early", I explained. 

"Premature", she asked in surprise.

"Twenty-two weeks", I nodded. "Her first twelve weeks were spent in the intensive care...", I said, my heart clenching as the memories refused to stay away.

"The max is usually ten", Hope frowned.

"You don't think I know that", I snapped, my voice thick with emotion, catching Hope off guard. 

I knew very well that most premature babies were only hospitalized for a few weeks, very rarely did it extend to months. The nurses hadn't been helpful, but my own research had told me everything I had needed to know. I had realized very quickly that my baby was very sick. In fact, I thought I would never get the luxury of seeing my child healthy in those early days. Sometimes my nightmares were still haunted by the voices of the doctors over the old, crinkly PA system calling for more nurses as they transported my daughter out of my room.