Destined For Them (Story 3)✔

~7~

~Caroline~

Sol finally managed to get out of the house the next morning after his daughter had interrogated him and set a new rule; No more locking the bedroom doors. She hadn't been happy when he informed her that he would think about it. You just didn't tell Lydia Specter you would think about anything. She wanted it her way or no way. She would learn, one day in the very far future, that locking the bedroom doors were for everyone's own good sometimes. 

She'd nearly been seething when he walked out the door, glaring at his back and she reminded me of...well me. Looks and all. Afterwards, she had marched up to her bedroom and hadn't come out since. Not even when my mother showed up, someone she adored. It was nearly lunch time when I went upstairs and found her playing quietly in the middle of her bed that was scattered with dolls. 

"Hey baby, you haven't come out of here all morning." I said from the doorway. She glanced up at my arrival but continued to brush her dolls hair. I couldn't help but notice the hint of sadness in her eyes. I'd been waiting for this...had been for the four days she had been back home. 

"Yea," She shrugged a little shoulder and moved on to another doll. I went in then and took a seat at the edge of her bed. I wondered how in the hell to go about talking to a four year old child who had been through something serious. Surely she knew that being taken by Cassandra Smythe was wrong...

"Are you alright?" 

"Just sad." 

"Do you want to talk about it?" My heart hurt a little. The last thing I wanted was my child to be sad...Especially when the actions of someone else were making her feel that way. Before I jumped to conclusions though-or became angry-, I needed to be sure. Anything could make her sad, rather it be Cassandra Smythe or wanting a new dress for a doll. Lydia was unpredictable. Hell, all children were unpredictable. 

"Just thinking about Lyza and Milli." Her reply stunned me and confused the hell out of me.  

"Who?" But I knew the answer before she said it allowed. Had to be 'Miss Smythe' right? It didn't take a genius to know she had lied about who she was. Harrison Marsh had confirmed it himself. I felt regret and anger towards myself for not checking into the woman. She had just seemed so genuine and authentic. Given my history, I knew that people could pretend to be someone they weren't...Like Mitchell Larson; a well known children's soccer coach who had some seriously obsessive issues and who murdered women. A man who people trusted their children around...a man I had trusted Christopher to be around. 

"Lyza, that's Miss Smythe's real name. And Milli was her daughter, she died." Lydia explained, all the while tending to her toys. For a moment I felt sorry for Cassandra-or Lyza-but it didn't last long. She had taken my child from her safe place and she had known it was wrong. "I wonder if she was mean to Milli like she was to me."

This was news to me and I tried everything not to cry or started throwing things. What had she done to my daughter that was mean? She hadn't had any bruises, I'd made sure to check shortly after her return home. Maybe it had all been mental. "Mean how, baby?" I asked as my heart rate started to rise. Was this a good idea? Pushing for information...

Just then, she reached up and scratched her head. "She hit my head with the brush a lot and she liked to scream. The nice man was there. He didn't like it when she was mean to me." A new emotion bubbled up then, mixing with the regret and anger...my own sadness. God, while I'd been stuck in this house, depressed and drinking, that woman had been treating my daughter badly. Making her cry, no doubt. 

I knew the man in the park was 'the nice man' she spoke of now. Did he give her lolli's while she had been there? Had he been her savior? Before I could pester her with any more question she frowned deeply and finally looked up at me. "I don't want to talk anymore, Mommy."