Cold Death by Mary Stone (best e reader for android TXT) 📕

devices, Ellie could have happily lived out the remainder of her life without ever seeing another therapist or shrink. She’d gone the therapy route once before, and…surprise! He’d turned out to be a murderous sociopath’s sidekick. Her residual trust issues hadn’t just gone poof and disappeared once the sociopath died.

For Bethany, though, she’d grit her teeth and talk to a thousand shrinks if that would make the difference between the court okaying the adoption or not.

The little girl picked at the cuticle on her thumb, her eyes downcast. Sensing there was more to the story, Ellie shoved the phone aside and scooted her chair closer, until their knees touched. “Okay, now tell me the truth. How did you sleep, really?”

Bethany hunched her shoulders. “I had a nightmare.”

Her posture was so dejected that Ellie’s heart melted. Using her knee, she nudged the girl’s leg until she raised her head. “Guess what? I had a nightmare too. Maybe we can start a club or something.”

“Really, you had one too?”

“Really. Can you tell me about yours? Sometimes, they’re less scary after you talk about them.”

Bethany watched her index finger trace circles on the table. “I…he locked me in the fridge again. I crawled around trying to find my way out, and there was a…a dead o-o-possum. I screamed and screamed, but no one came to rescue me.”

“Oh, sweetie.”

Ellie opened her arms in invitation, and Bethany crawled out of her chair and into Ellie’s lap like she was half monkey, her skinny body somehow generating enough heat to make an electric blanket jealous. She clung to Ellie’s neck as Ellie stroked her back, whispering soothing noises while a tidal wave of emotion surged in her breast.

In the space of a month, Katarina’s daughter had managed to worm her way into Ellie’s heart and instill in her a mama bear’s fierce protectiveness. She inhaled the strawberry-scented hair that tickled her nose before tilting her face up toward the ceiling.

I get it now, Katarina, and I’ll keep my promise. Your baby will always have a home with me.

“Bad dreams can be scary, but they’re just dreams, and they’ll eventually start to fade away, I promise. One day, your dreams will be full of good things, like superheroes and puppies.”

Beneath Ellie’s hand, Bethany’s bony shoulders changed from pliant to rigid. Ellie frowned down at the blonde head as she rewound her statement, searching the words for what might have upset her. “What’s wrong?”

When Bethany peeked into Ellie’s face, her expression was stricken. “Nothing, really. It’s just…I don’t want memories of my mama to fade away.”

Ellie put two and two together and wanted to smack herself. Nice one, Kline. You just made this poor baby worry that she was going to forget her dead mother.

Maybe Ellie should call the social worker back and suggest that the family therapy session come with a lifetime of parenting classes.

She cupped Bethany’s cheeks just as the little girl’s face started to crumple. “What if I promise to help you remember your mama? We can put together a photo album for you to go through whenever you want, and I’ll tell you stories about her whenever you ask. How does that sound?”

The girl gave a loud sniff and wiped her nose on the back of her hand, her blue eyes wide and hopeful. “Stories about how she was like a superhero and came to rescue me?”

Ellie’s own eyes started to burn, and she cleared her throat. “Yes, those stories, and any others I can think of.”

“‘Kay.” Bethany sniffed again, gazing up at Ellie with luminous eyes. “Also…do you think I could change my name one more time?”

Ellie’s eyebrows rose at the out-of-the-blue request. “I think it’s something we could certainly talk about.” She chose her phrasing carefully, unsure where this conversation might lead. Was Bethany considering switching to a simple name, like Sarah or Willow? Or was she enamored with some wild, new-age name, like Huckleberry Sage or Antarctica?

She might be new to this parenting gig, but her cop instincts warned of the inherent dangers in agreeing to a request without first sniffing out all the loopholes. Even when the requester was elementary-school-aged, or hell, maybe especially in those cases.

“Why, did you have a new name in mind?”

Bethany gave a shy nod before fixing Ellie with an expression far too solemn for her eight years. “I want to go by Bethany Katrina. Those were me and Mama’s names before the bad people took us away from each other. That way I’ll be sure not to forget her, right?”

Ellie’s throat swelled so much, all she could do at first was nod and take a mental note.

Next trip to the store, buy tissues. Lots and lots of tissues. Because clearly, this parenting gig is guaranteed to turn you into a big pile of snot.

Once she’d blinked back the tears and her heart stopped shredding into itsy bitsy confetti-sized pieces, Ellie agreed. “Right. I think that’s a wonderful way to honor your mama’s memory.”

“Yay!” A smile brighter than a rainbow bursting from the clouds after a stormy day lit up Bethany’s face, and like the resilient little chameleon she was, the girl scrambled off Ellie’s lap and bounced up and down. “When’s breakfast gonna be ready? I’m hungry.”

Laughing at the sudden one-eighty, Ellie poked the girl in the belly, eliciting a high-pitched giggle.

“What’s this I hear about breakfast?” Clay swooped in from behind them and leaned over Bethany, shaking his damp hair near her face and making her giggle even harder. He scooped her up and twirled around, showing off the flattering fit of his jeans while Ellie sipped her coffee and admired the view.

“Bethany was just saying she was hungry.”

Clay and Ellie exchanged a glance. As they’d discovered the first day they’d brought her home, Bethany was always hungry. The doctor had reassured them not to worry. Kids who’d suffered from starvation for any length of time were often ravenous until their bodies and minds readjusted to the idea of regular meals, and that because