The Forgotten Daughter, One Last Time Chapter 03

The Forgotten Daughter, One Last Time Chapter 03

I just stood there, the dead phone still clutched to my ear. Tears spilled over before I could stop them, falling onto the dark screen.

The woman let out a quiet sigh and rested her hand on my shoulder. “Oh, honey,” she said.

“Why don’t you come home with me? You can call your parents from there, have them come pick you up.”

“I live just off the next exit, but it’s the opposite direction from where you’re headed — otherwise I’d drive you myself.”

My parents’ voices were still ringing in my ears — the irritation, the blame. “No, it’s okay,” I said. “Thank you, though.”

“My parents said my uncle’s coming. I’ll wait here for him.”

It was Christmas. Of course they didn’t want to backtrack. And Uncle Ken Miller— we’d never been close. I doubted he’d be happy about the detour.

She opened her mouth to argue, but her phone buzzed — her travel companion, ready to leave.

She hesitated, then reached into her bag and pressed a handful of individually wrapped chocolates into my palm.

Then she slipped the thick, beige blanket scarf off her neck and wrapped it around my shoulders. “Keep this on,” she said softly.

“Eat the chocolates if you get hungry. And if nobody shows up soon, find someone else and ask to use their phone, okay?”

I nodded quickly, too choked up to say anything but thank you. A moment later she was gone, her footsteps fading as the heavy door swung shut.

The rest stop went quiet again. The wind still hissed through the cracks around the door, but the blanket was doing its job — the warmth slowly seeping back into my shoulders.

My stomach growled. I unwrapped one of the chocolates and took a small bite.

I couldn’t make myself finish it — I folded the wrapper carefully and slipped the rest into my pocket.

I clutched the scarf tighter and tugged at the collar. The sweater I had on was one of Olivia’s old sweaters from last year.

The neckline was stretched out, the cuffs fraying. Mom said it was still perfectly good — Olivia just didn’t want it anymore.

Olivia had a brand-new pink parka this year, the hood lined with faux fur. She looked like a girl from a catalog.

Leo’s puffer jacket was bright blue and brand-new. He waddled like a little penguin when he ran.

And then there was me — secondhand sweater, no coat, looking like I belonged to a different family.

I forced myself to step back outside. If Uncle Ken drove by without seeing me, that was it — nobody else was coming.

The light was fading fast, and the streetlamps were starting to glow harder against the dark. Then the snow started — just a few flakes at first, drifting down like an afterthought.

Snowflakes landed in my hair and on my shoulders, melting into cold little patches as I stared out toward the highway.

I stamped my feet to keep the blood moving and pressed my hands together inside the blanket. Come on, Ken. Please come.

Cars kept streaming past, headlights blurring at the edges of my vision. None of them pulled off.

The snow thickened, dusting the blanket white. I pulled it tighter around me. The taste of chocolate had long since faded.

All that was left was the cold and the waiting — both stretching on forever.

I didn’t even know if Ken would remember. Out here, alone, the cold was starting to win — and I was running out of reasons to believe anyone was coming for me.