GEORGINA
Part of the staff from the Control Centre goes up and down again and again on the house's stairs looking for any kind of evidence that Madison could have left. For any clue to tell them why she could have done what she did.
The key was destroyed. The phone is off at Levy's house. There's no way they could track her.
"There's no sign of the girl in Las Vegas," I hear one of them say to Wen who is on the edge of a nervous collapse on the sofa. From his appearance, I can tell he hasn't closed his eyes in the past days. He is paled and has bags under his eyes. He has let his beard grow, and his look, well, he is literally tracking every movement in the house. Like a cat chasing a light.
"Have you talk with Madison's friends?" A short woman asks me. I gulp and shake my head.
"They must be as concerned as we are," my voice cracks.
"She will be okay Mrs. Wrestler, we are going to find her," tells me the same woman while she palms my shoulder and I just nod.
I have been doing this since they found out about the girl's disappearance. I haven't stop acting like a worried mother whose daughter ran away. Eighty percent of me is pretty sure that Madison is and will be okay, but the rest of me fears every minute that goes by. I cry four times a day (minimum) and the rest of the time I spend it arguing with Sean about how we ended up this way. He's as worried as Wen. But they don't worry about Madison, not even for the girl. They worry about the future and what they've built during all these years.
"Let's send more people," Wen stands up and immediately everyone looks at him. "I want people all over California, everyone registering every single city, town, and community. Talk to whoever you need to talk with discretion. I want hourly updates about the situation.
"She's not in California," I dare to say and my voice comes out stronger than what I expected. Wen looks at me cautiously and approaches me.
"Gina, we are trying our best to find your daughter -"
"You know pretty well that you are not looking for my daughter. You don't care about her," I interrupt and he crosses his arms. "You only care for your little experiment."
"You are right, your daughter is worth nothing to me-"
"Doctor Hoffman!" warns the woman next to me. I stare at him deeply into his eyes.
"However, the girl she took with her is worth millions of dollars and all our jobs depend on her." He makes a gesture with his hands showing me all of the presents. He gets closer without taking his eyes from mine.
"You are not going to sell that child," I reproach crossing my arms.
"Oh, that could be a better idea, Georgina," he smiles and I frown. "But you and I know that is not what your daughter is planning on doing. Is it?"
I froze on the inside even though I do my best effort to stay still. "It wouldn't be a surprise if you end up being part of this," he threatens me in a low voice, but catches everyone's attention, especially Sean's.
"You are right," I say looking at him and he nods showing me a satisfied smile. "I asked my only child, who hates me because of you -"
"She wouldn't be alive if it weren't for me." My blood boils.
"Alive thanks to whoever you want, she hates us, all of us. And she has all the right to do so. She has enough reason to do it. We gave her those reasons." As I talk, real tears fall from my eyes. No matter what I told Madison or the fact that she agreed to help me, the guilt builds inside me. We messed with her childhood, her life. "So, yes, I compelled her to run away with that child even though she didn't want to do it. Does it make sense? I am risking my daughter's life in order to save a child that doesn't have anything destined for her."
He rubs his temples anxiously staring at the floor. "If you have nothing to do with this, then I suppose you won't have any problem with our search in California. I mean... since you don't know where Madison is." I sigh.
"Look even three times if you want to," I finally say. "You will be wasting your time."
MADISON
I take out all the clothes I chose to bring in my improvised suitcase. Why didn't I packed better options than these shirts? There are only two more left: one of them a shirt of I LOVE SAN FRANCISCO and the other a very loose one with stripes. Nothing that anyone with common sense would ever use on a first date. I look at Alison who just observes me from the bed wearing the only blouse that could have probably work.
"Alison," I say decided to ask her to give me the blouse, but when she raises her innocent look I am unable to do it. "Never mind," is all I say instead.
I don't know why I am so nervous. It's not the first time I am going out with a guy. But the last time I did, probably was more than two years ago, and for the record, wasn't with someone I was really interested in. It's strange because right when someone shows interest in me I run away. The funny thing is that this time if I escape, it'd be for something totally different.
I don't feel the kind of different with him the way any novel could describe. I don't feel like my life depends on him. I don't lose my sleep for thinking of him nor I would ever leave everything to be with him. Am I thinking ahead? I don't even know the guy. How can I expect to have feelings for him?
Perhaps all this is in my mind. Maybe it is just me hoping something positive could finally happen in my life after so many exhausting days. Maybe the only thing I needed to do was changing my life's routine. Perhaps this is not a good choice. Maybe what my mind is trying to tell me is the truth and I really need to get away from him. Maybe he really just wants to take Alison away. Maybe he is just looking for a pretty face. Maybe I shouldn't risk myself to get hurt anymore. But maybe... just maybe, I need this.
"What's that?" Alison touches my chest with his little finger. Right where the red heart of the shirt I decided to wear is. I look at it.
"It's a heart," I say looking at it. "A drawing... of a heart."
"Why?" I raise my brows in reply without getting what she's asking.
"Why?"
"I... heart... s... f..." she literally reads the sign on the shirt, passing her finger over the sticker. "I don't understand," she says giving up and sitting over her legs on the bed.
"It's not literal," I explain. "The heart replaces another word."
"What word?" she asks looking at me through the mirror while I begin to brush my hair.
"The heart means Love. S is for San. F is for Francisco."
"I... love... San... Francisco," she repeats the sentence and I smile at her reflection. She frowns. "What's love?"
Just when I am about to reply, someone calls at the door. Damn it. What time is it? I look at the clock on the wall that tells exactly seven o'clock. Dylan. I am not even half ready. That much time took me to decide what was I going to wear? He knocks again.
I walk quickly to the door. I find him with one of his hands ready to knock again and in the other a bag full of the same chocolates that Alison adores. He smiles putting his hand down and puts the bag next to his face.
"Well, they aren't flowers but they are quite good as a distraction," he says. I smile as an answer and let him in.
"You are going to make her the happiest girl in the world. Give me five minutes," I tell him walking back into the dorm. "There's someone outside that wants to give you a gift," I tell Alison before going to the bathroom to put some makeup on.
"What's a gift?" she startles me a few minutes later making me stain my eyes with the black mascara.
"Oh my God! Alison you are supposed to be with him."
"Who?" she asks driving me crazy.
"Dylan."
"Dylan?"
"Stop questioning me and go with him," I say pushing her from her back out of the bathroom. "You can ask him questions." Bomb him with millions of them.
"What should I ask?" I close my eyes sighing. I know I should be patient with her, it's not her fault, but she couldn't have picked a worse moment than this to start questioning everything I say. Was I the same way with my mother?
"I don't care," I finally say. "Go away."
Fortunately, she leaves. I put some makeup like I am used to doing, nothing too exaggerated, but it actually ends up taking longer than what I thought it would. In the background I hear their voices. I can't distinguish exactly what they say but they don't stop talking. At least I don't have her over me for a while, or have him desperate for the amount of time that I am making him wait... maybe he is more than desperate. Oh god, I hope he is a kids person.
When I am finally ready I go to the living room realizing I am an hour late. I find them as I less expected to. Both sitting on the sofa that now I begin to think is Dylan's favorite. To my surprise, Alison unlike staying away from him sits right next to him and rests on him so that she could be able to see whatever Dylan is showing her on his phone. They look adorable. The image is really sweet for two people that don't know each other at all. Alison is deeply concentrated in whatever is it that she's looking at and he can't stop smiling at her. I guess my question has been answered.
"Uhm..." I say without knowing what else to say and instantly both of them look at me.
"Are you ready?" says Dylan with a smile. I think I blush again. It's like a habit each time he does that.
"I did what I could," I reply and he lets out a small laugh standing up.
I feel how my hands begin to sweat and I blush for the thought of how disgusting it would be if he held my hand this way. Would he let go? Would he be nervous too? "I will make you one of these if you are good tonight," he says to Alison and she smiles nodding and running towards me.
"Do you know milkshakes?" she asks and I nod smiling at her for the excitement she reflects on her face.
"They are way much better than chocolate," I say and her eyes widen.
I make sure to leave Alison asleep. I think it is the only way I can make sure she stays safe. They say kids could harm themselves at any moment and practically with anything around them. However, based on the experiences they live while growing up, the majority of them learn what can hurt them or how even during all their childhood they have people telling them not to do some stuff because they can get hurt. Well, if it is dangerous for a kid to be left alone even with everything they know, it is probably ten times more dangerous to leave a child who practically has the mind of a baby on her own.
I suddenly drag myself into paranoia for all those stuff that can hurt her: knives, plugs, cables, fans, balconies, who knows... she could get asphyxiated with chocolate, try to get into the bath and drown... break out of the apartment.
All kinds of risks began floating through my mind and it is impossible for me to concentrate on what Dylan comes saying. At what moment did I think it was a good idea to leave her alone?