Page 21 of One Little Mistake

But Mrs. Gray’s words echo in my mind—how the baby would end up in foster care if no one claimed him. And that hits different. Because I spent the first six years of my life in one of those places. I know what it’s like to grow up without parents. To never feel a mother’s hug or hear someone say they love you.

No holidays. No bedroom to call your own.

Just a world behind a tall iron fence that you were only let out of every once in a while.

CHAPTER 9

Max

My conversation with Vivienne stirred up memories I hadn’t touched in years. Memories of a time when all I ever wanted was to be chosen. I used to watch other kids at the orphanage get taken away by new parents—led off to a place the caretakers said was so much better—and I wanted that too. I wanted to know what it felt like to have a mom and dad, the way every kid in that place dreamed of.

I never asked Helga and Steven why they chose me, or who that boy in their photo album was—the one they’ve kept safe for all these years. To me, they became Mom and Dad the moment I stepped into their home, and I’ve always been grateful for everything they gave me. Elena, born a few years after my adoption, still has no idea that we’re not related by blood.

I grew up in a loving home, got a good education, and turned out okay. It’s honestly terrifying to imagine what could’ve happened if I’d stayed in that place until I aged out.

I don’t manage to fall asleep until morning. When I do finally wake up, it’s abrupt—like someone shoved me. I check my phone, drag myself out of bed, and start walking through the apartment. On the way to the shower, I stop in front of what is now the nursery.

I hesitate. Then I give in, turn the handle, and peek inside.

The giant plush bear is still staring at me reproachfully, and I wince.

“Don’t even try to guilt-trip me. I’m not falling for it,” I mutter, not breaking eye contact with the stuffed toy.

Something about this room—and the stillness in the whole apartment—makes my skin crawl. I quickly shut the door and back away.

The whole day drags by. I can’t figure out what to do with myself.

Back when I was married, every minute of my time off was accounted for. Family visits, trips, shopping malls, dinners out—Cynthia hated staying home. I got used to that lifestyle, even though all I really wanted sometimes was just a quiet day in.

After the divorce, Elena—being the little sister and all—took it upon herself to pull me out of my post-marriage slump. I tolerated her daily drop-ins, doing my best not to blow up and slam the door in her face. But when she suddenly moved to another city for school, I realized just how much I missed the chaos.

If it hadn’t been for Elena, I’m not sure where I’d be now. Maybe I’d have ended up bonding with Kevin from the first floor—the guy who hits the 24/7 liquor store every morning at dawn. And that would’ve definitely been the end of me.

That evening, I finally try to find this mysterious Aspen Creek on the map. Turns out, it’s nearly two hundred miles away. I quickly decide it’s way easier to drive to the hospital and unlock her phone with her Face ID than to spend an entire day on the road—not even knowing if anyone’s actually living at her registered address.

Either way, someone in her family needs to know what happened. Assuming she even has family. I’ve been holding on to her phone all day, hoping someone would call, but the screen stayed dark. Looks like there’s no one out there worried about her. A whole week has gone by.

The next morning, I head to the hospital at sunrise. Big mistake—her doctor doesn’t show up until nine. When he finally arrives, he recognizes me right away and leads me to my “wife’s” room.

I hesitate outside the door. Not sure why I suddenly feel anxious. I take a few deep breaths and grip the handle.

There are two beds inside. The red hair is hard to miss. I slowly walk over to Erin.

There’s an IV line in her arm and tubes in her nose. Her breathing is shallow—her chest rising and falling so slowly it’s like she’s barely hanging on. She looks pale, fragile, like all the color’s been drained out of her. The girl I met—rosy, lively, with a sharp stare and quick hands flipping pancakes—is gone.

Now there’s just… this.

I stand by her bed for a while, just staring at her face. I don’t even know why I came—well, that’s a lie. I came to unlock the damn phone. But the reality of how fast life can fall apart has me frozen.

Just a week ago, she was probably counting the days until her baby arrived. And now? No one even knows if she’ll make it.

And despite the fact that this girl is a complete stranger, my chest aches for her. Genuinely. Because what she’s facing is terrifying. And because I’ve been there—I get it. I wouldn’t wish this kind of helplessness on anyone.

I stare at her hand; Long fingers, thin wrist. I don’t blink, willing her to move—just a twitch. Maybe she’s just sleeping? It’s not impossible, right?

I sigh, shove my hands in my pockets, and walk over to the window. My eyes land on the drab building across the way, and for a moment, I forget where I even am.

There’s this stupid part of me—the part that won’t shut up—pushing me to do something noble. Call in the best doctors in the country, demand the real truth, make something happen. Save her.

---