Lost In The Darkness {Edited}

Chapter~55

Ok since I am updating after so long, let me do a little recap? In the last chapter, Vanessa finally met Sophia, then she learned what her daughter went through. Also, the chapter was in Nic's POV.

While I would say, I loved writing this chapter- I didn't. I had no motivation, no inspiration. It is like no one is reading this book, so whom am I writing for? When the audience doesn't even like it.

But I want to complete this book, no matter how slow, or even if I am writing because of one person whom I promised I would update by Sunday.

Anyways, hopefully you enjoy the chapter.

Vanessa's POV: 

My heart pounded as I cautiously stepped into the room, the tub of ice cream trembling in my hands, my nerves a chaotic mess. This moment was everything I had dreamed of, but the weight of it made me ache inside.  Finally, I was standing before her but my daughter hadn't taken to me at first sight, I mean why would she? For I am nothing more than a stranger to the very life I'd brought into this world.

She sat on the bed, a small figure wrapped in her own silence. She seemed lost, as if her mind had retreated to some unreachable place, trapped in the prison of her own thoughts. I would give anything, everything, to erase the horrors she had endured, to chase away the shadows that must haunt her young heart. But I knew there was no quick fix, no way to undo the damage.

Sensing my presence, she stirred and lifted her head. Our eyes met, and for a split second, I froze, fear tightening around me. Would she panic? Reject me again? But this time, there was no fear in her eyes—only a quiet, tentative curiosity. She was studying me, maybe trying to decide if I was someone safe, someone worth trusting. This ignited the small hope that resided in my heart, fragile but real and maybe, just maybe she would let me in.

I offered her a small, tentative smile, whispering a soft "Hey," out of habit before remembering—she couldn't hear me. A rush of guilt and helplessness surged through me. How could I forget something so crucial? I waved my free hand instead, signaling my presence as I took slow, careful steps toward her. She didn't respond, didn't flinch—just kept staring at me with that same distant, guarded expression. I could see the wheels turning in her mind, perhaps trying to make sense of who I was, what I wanted, or why I was here.

My heart hammered in my chest as I stopped a few feet from the bed, not wanting to invade her space. I pointed to myself and then gestured toward the edge of the bed, silently asking permission to sit. I wasn't sure what I expected—maybe nothing at all—but the slight, hesitant nod she gave was far more than I'd hoped for. Relief washed over me like a wave, and I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

Carefully, I eased myself onto the bed, my body turned slightly toward her, though I kept a respectful distance.

I wasn't sure how to tell her I'd brought ice cream as a small gesture, a simple way for us to spend a few moments together. Words felt useless, and even if I could find them, they wouldn't reach her. So instead, I placed the ice cream tub and two spoons on the bed between us, hoping the act itself would speak for me. She glanced down at it for a moment, her eyes flicking back to mine, her expression unreadable.

With shaky hands, I pointed to her, then to myself, mimicking the motion of eating ice cream in a lighthearted way, trying to bridge the gap between us. But the instant I did, I saw her body tense. Her brow furrowed, and her small frame stiffened, as if retreating into the invisible walls she had built around herself. My heart ached at the sight, fearing I had overstepped, but I didn't want to give up.

Slowly, gently, I nudged the tub closer to her, my hands steady even though my insides were in turmoil. I was careful not to push too hard, just enough to signal that it was hers if she wanted it. I motioned for her to open it, hoping the ice cream—a small, innocent treat—might be enough to ease the tension, to break the silence.