Emma's Secret: A Novel

winked.
    “That’s okay. Right, Daddy?”
    There was a hint of hesitation in her voice, and Jack winced. She was too young to be worried about things like that. And it wasn’t fair of him to put her in that position. Her real name was Emma. Not Emmie. He caught the look on Peter’s face, as if he were trying to figure out how to respond without hurting her feelings. It wasn’t right to put Peter in that position either.
    “Emma is a beautiful name. I think it’s the perfect name for a princess.” Jack reached for Emma’s hand and brought it to his lips. He laid a gentle kiss upon her palm, and she giggled.
    No matter what, she would always be his princess.

    Time stood still, and Peter had no idea what to say or how to react. A first for him. An image flashed in his mind of the first time he’d seen Jack.
    Peter had stood beside Megan, his arms encircling her waist in an attempt to keep her by his side. The screen door edged open, and Jack stepped through it. He was old and worn. Tears streaked down his face, and Peter could see the anguish in his eyes. He stared at them as if trying to tell them something, but whatever Jack had to say disappeared the moment Emma stepped out of the house.
    As soon as he saw her, he knew he’d recognize her anywhere. Her blonde hair, held in pigtails, framed a face that looked so much like Megan’s. His heart lurched. He didn’t expect this. He’d convinced himself that that day would be about accepting that Emma was really gone. After the way Detective Riley spoke to him on the phone, he’d been persuaded that this was the end to the small dream he’d held alive in his heart.
    When Detective Riley stopped them from running to Emma, it took everything inside Peter to stand still and allow the older man to say his good-byes. Peter would never forget his voice, the gruffness and loss the man struggled to mask. It hurt his heart to have the other man’s arms around his daughter, to see him place a kiss upon her forehead. He wanted to lash out, to protect his daughter the way he should have two years ago. But the look in Emma’s eyes stopped him. She loved the older man.
    Peter turned his gaze to Emma and Jack. He knew if Megan was here she’d have picked Emma up and taken her out of the store and back home within a heartbeat. And that had been his first reaction when Emma screamed.
    But it was the way she locked onto the older man and the smile on her face that had stopped him from reacting and set him instead to observing. She had actually laughed. It was a sound he wasn’t about to forget. For the first time since they’d brought her home, his daughter was happy, content. At peace.
    Maybe Jack wasn’t the monster they had made him out to be. Emma certainly didn’t think so, and he trusted her judgment, even if she was only five years old. He knew all about Stockholm syndrome, had read books on it late at night while the kids were in bed, but he didn’t think this was the case with Emma. They had never harmed or tortured her. And as far as he knew, Jack honestly hadthought this was his granddaughter. The monster was Dorothy, his wife—but then, she was also a victim.
    It was hard to stay angry with someone who loved your child almost as much as you did. His gut wrenched. He never thought of Jack and Dottie in that way. It was easier to paint them into evil villains who stole his child. He didn’t want to think of them as real people who were important to his daughter.
    But the way Emma glowed told Peter he needed to start.
    “What if you had a special nickname?”
    Peter wasn’t sure where that came from or why he even suggested it, but it seemed like a good compromise. Emma cocked her head and smiled. Her fingers tapped against her lips for a moment or two. He could see the wheels turn in her mind. She wanted to please both of them but knew, even at her young age, that it was a precarious position.
    She leaned over, cupped her hands over her mouth, and whispered into his ear, “Can it be Em?”
    Peter stared into Emma’s eyes and thought about it. Em would be acceptable and easy to remember. Em was even what Kathy, Emma’s counselor, had suggested when they discussed Emma’s trying to combine both of her lives into one. Em would be a sign that she didn’t have to choose after all.
    Peter winked and gave her the thumbs-up. She giggled and then leaned over to Jack and whispered into his ear.
    “Well, now”—Jack cleared his throat—“I think that is