Page 45 of Her Reluctant Hero
“They’re empty.”
“What?” He’d barely heard her voice—it was all breath, indrawn breath.
“The rolls of film—they were empty. No pictures.”
Only then did he realize she clutched a bag from a one-hour photo lab.
Pictures. This was about pictures. Irritation chased away a relief so sharp it was painful. He sat back on his heels. “You took the film in? That’s what this is about?”
“There was nothing on any of the rolls,” she said, tears streaming, her nose dripping. “No pictures.”
“Christ, Bella, I thought you were hurt. It’s just pictures.”
Her head snapped up. “Justpictures? It’s all I have.” Her breath wheezed. “I have nothing. No first smile, no first step, no first tooth, nothing. If he’s gone, if I never see him again, it will be like he never existed. I will have nothing of him.”
Alex realized people were staring, but her pain reached out and wrapped around him.
“Come on, let’s go upstairs,” he said softly, taking the bag from her. She’d paid for them. Paid for blank photos. “Bella.”
“He’s gone, Alex. I’m not getting my baby back.” Her voice had lost its shrillness, descended into hollow hopelessness that hurt to hear.
“You will. We will. I promise.” He stroked a hand down her back to soothe her, heard the promise come out of his mouth, tried not to wince at the hope in her eyes. How the hell could he make that happen? Why did he want to ensure it did?
