Page 42 of Mating Mia
“Wish we knew what was happening with Liam and if he had found her yet,” says Jace in thought.
I straighten up, suddenly decisive with ideas running through my mind.
“I want to go to the hospital,” I announce, grabbing a final set of sleepers and tossing them into the cart. “I want to see the road that my mom might have walked to escape.”
“Mia, you’re about to give birth any day now,” Kane growls, his hand moving to my swollen belly. “You need to take it easy. We can investigate the hospital area tomorrow or next week. It’s not going anywhere.”
“But I am,” I counter, meeting his gaze steadily. “This baby isn’t waiting for us to solve the mystery, Kane. He’s coming whether we find my mother or not. I need to do this now, while I still can. Before I’m too busy with a newborn to continue looking.”
Kane opens his mouth to argue further, but Finn places a hand on his shoulder.
“She’s right,” he says quietly. “We don’t know how much time we have before the baby arrives. And she won’t be climbing mountains—just looking around the hospital grounds.”
“Fine,” Kane concedes, his voice gruff with concern. “But you stay with us every second. No wandering off and no overexerting yourself. And the moment you feel tired or uncomfortable, we leave. Immediately.”
“Deal,” I agree, relief washing through me. I lean up to press a quick kiss to his cheek, then turn the cart toward the checkout lanes. “Let’s hurry, then. I want to have plenty of daylight to look around.”
The checkout process is a blur of beeping scanners and mounting totals that make my eyes widen. Baby supplies are expensive, but none of my alphas even blink at the cost. Money has never been an issue for them, even though I’ve struggled all my life, especially working in a cafe to make ends meet for years, paying rent for my dead ex-boyfriend.
Soon, we’re loading bags into the trunk of our rental SUV, the back filling with tiny clothes, diapers, bottles, and all the other essential supplies for a newborn. Jace insists on helping me into the passenger seat, treating me like I’m made of glass as he buckles my seatbelt around my belly.
“I’m pregnant, not invalid,” I grumble, though secretly I appreciate the care.
“Just making sure our precious cargo is secure,” he says with a wink, patting my stomach before closing my door.
Kane slides into the driver’s seat, inputting the hospital address into the GPS with precise movements. The route shows it’s only about twenty minutes away, and anticipation flutters in my chest like a caged bird.
The drive passes in tense silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts. Finn studies maps on his phone in the backseat, likely plotting possible escape routes my mother might have taken. Jace’s usual cheerful chatter is subdued, his hand occasionally squeezing my shoulder in silent support.
When the hospital finally comes into view, it’s both more and less impressive than I imagined—a sprawling complex of modern buildings and older wings, its windows gleaming in the afternoon sunlight. The parking lot is crowded with visitors and staff, with people going about their everyday lives.
Kane finds a spot near the edge of the lot, closest to the wooded area that surrounds much of the hospital grounds.
As I step out of the car, I’m struck by how normal everything looks. I don’t know what I was expecting.
“This way,” Finn says, gesturing toward a path that leads into the trees. “If she were trying to escape without being seen, she would have gone through the woods rather than across the open parking lot.”
We stand at the edge of the forest, the four of us in a line like we’re about to enter another world. The woods are dense but not impenetrable, dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves to create shifting patterns on the ground.
“Ready?” Kane asks, his hand finding mine, fingers intertwining with reassuring strength.
I take a deep breath, feeling my son shift inside me as if he, too, is preparing for this journey.
“Ready,” I confirm, squeezing his hand. “Let’s find out where she went.”
I take the first step onto the path, drawn by some invisible thread that feels like destiny. Somewhere in these woods, my mother once ran for her life, leaving the hospital. Now I’m returning, carrying my own child, hoping to complete the circle that was broken so violently all those years ago.
“Stay close,” Kane murmurs, his arm sliding around my waist as we venture into the trees. “We’ll take it slow.”
I place one hand on my belly and the other in Kane’s grip, drawing strength from both connections as we move deeper into the woods, searching for traces of a path taken twenty-three years ago by a terrified young woman who gave up everything to keep her child safe.
twelve
. . .
Mia
“The path’s almost completely grown over,” Finn calls from a few yards ahead, his lean form pushing aside a tangle of brambles. “Looks like it’s been abandoned for years.”
