When the Camera's Aren't Rolling || Elizabeth Olsen x Child Star

Sitting ducks pt. 1

MONDAY  || AUGUST 2nd  || 2021

[Return to present time]

Lizzie Olsen's POV ~

Blue gown.

Brown hair.

Purple bunny.

Red cheeks.

Lizzie took a deep breath, her mind entirely focused on the child cradled in her arms. Everything felt surreal, as if she were caught in a waking dream. The cold little body pressed against her wasn't the child she had intended to visit. This one was an even smaller replica—a child she hadn't even known existed until last night.

'Why hadn't Elsie mentioned her sisters?' The question floated in Lizzie's mind, but she quickly pushed it aside. More pressing matters demanded her attention—like the petite, middle-aged woman now rushing toward them, her face a mixture of relief and worry.

"Thank God!" the woman exclaimed, her voice cutting through the tension that filled the room. The young police officer, currently speaking with her husband, looked equally relieved, as if being free of Violet had lifted a heavy burden off his shoulders. The girl, on the other hand, had the opposite reaction—she tightened her grip on Lizzie, pressing her face into Lizzie's neck.

"Honey, I know you're scared, but you can't run off like that!" the woman scolded, her brows knitting together as she took in Violet's frightened form. The girl didn't respond. She only burrowed deeper into Lizzie's arms, her small body shaking like a leaf in the wind.

Lizzie's arms instinctively tightened around Voilet, a fierce protectiveness surging through her body. She knew it was reckless to promise the little girl that she'd stay, but what choice did she have when the child was so terrified?

Lizzie glanced at the woman across from her—small and slight, with dark hair streaked with grey and a face lined with the marks of worry. Her professional attire—wide-legged pants and a crisp blouse—did little to soften the sharpness in her eyes. She seemed to radiate authority, her presence demanding respect despite her small stature.

Their eyes met, and for a moment, Lizzie felt pinned by the woman's gaze. Her stomach twisted, but she held her ground. She'd do anything to stay with Violet, and hopefully, with Winnie and Elsie too. The woman's expression remained unreadable, assessing Lizzie and Robbie with a calm intensity that made Lizzie's heart race.

After a tense silence, the woman extended her hand. "Maya Romero," she introduced herself, her voice steady and authoritative.

Lizzie exhaled, shakily disentangling one arm from Violet to shake Maya's hand. "Lizzie," she replied, her voice wavering slightly. Maya's grip was firm but her hands were unexpectedly soft. She turned to Robbie next, shaking his hand with the same brisk efficiency. "I'm with Child Protective Services," she said, her tone leaving no room for ambiguity.

Lizzie shot a worried glance at Robbie, panic clawing at her insides. 'What kind of trouble were these girls in?'

"We—uh—we're the ones who found the girls last night," Robbie added, his voice faltering as if unsure whether this admission would help or hurt their situation.

Maya's eyes flicked between them, her gaze sharp as she processed the information. The tension in the room thickened, pressing in on Lizzie from all sides. Just as the silence became unbearable, distant wails echoed down the hospital corridor. Lizzie jolted as Violet's head snapped toward the noise, her eyes widening with panic.

It took Lizzie a second to recognize the cries—and from Violet's reaction, she knew it had to be Winnie.

Maya's expression hardened, urgency flashing in her eyes. "We should walk and talk," she said, gesturing for them to follow. "We need to get back to the baby."