Chapter 45

Annie's POV

My heart raced as I approached EdwardI Parker's townhouse, the package of dolls heavy in my arms. Each step felt weighted with responsibility-these weren't just toys, but potential keys to unlocking Lucy's voice.Howard's hand brushed my elbow briefly as I hesitated at the door,the slight contact steadying my nerves.

Edward's face lit up with genuine warmth when he opened the door."Annie, Howard! What a wonderful surprise." His eyes crinkled with authentic pleasure as he ushered us in. "I've been hoping to hear more about Lucy's progress -Howard mentioned in his last email that she's been responding well to therapy."

As we settled in the sitting room, I noticed how he seemed more energetic than duringour previous visits, eagerly leaning forward in his chair. My hands moved as I explained the plan, demonstrating how we'd incorporate the two-way radios, showing how Lucy could use the dolls as a safe bridge between her silent world and the voices she longed to share.With each detail, I watched hope slowly kindle in Edward's eyes. Edward's eyes widened with delight as he reached for the miniature version of himself, examining every detail with growing amazement."

These are incredible!" he exclaimed, a broad smile spreading across his face."The craftsmanship is extraordinary. Lucy must love these."

His enthusiasm was contagious, and I found myself smiling as I explained,"We believe these dolls could help Lucy feel even more connected to you and Mrs. Parker. Children often express themselves more freely through play, and given how well she's been responding to creative therapy..." "You think this might help her feel more comfortable around us?" Edward's eyes sparkled with hope and enthusiasm. "I know she can't speak to us yet, but just seeing her respond to you both, watching her slowly open up..it gives me such hope."

"It's all about building on her progress," I explained, encouraged by his positive response. "The dolls can create a comfortable space for her to express herself. We've noticed that she's starting to communicate more with her new friend Penny, and we believe these dolls might help extend that progress to family interactions."

"That makes perfect sense," Edward nodded eagerly. "And the way you've captured our likenesses... it's like we could be right there with her,waiting patiently until she's ready." He chuckled warmly, though his eyes grew thoughtful. "I just want her to know we're here for her, however long it takes."

"She knows," Howard added gently. "We're helping her understand that she's loved and supported, that the accident and everything that followed wasn't her fault."

"Of course it wasn't," Edward said firmly, his voice full of grandfatherly love. "She was just our precious girl, excited about dolphins..." He smiled at the memory, though his eyes glistened slightly. "What matters is that she's healing now, thanks to you both. Even if she can't tell us directly, we can see the difference in her eyes."

"Which is why these sessions are so important," I pressed on, giving him a moment to collect himself. "The dolls can help her work through those feelings in a safe environment, surrounded by people who love her."

"Whatever you need," Edward straightened, that familiar Parker strength reasserting itself. "Just tell me how I can help." Catherine breezed into my studio in her usual afternoon visit, settling herself on the edge of my desk with practiced grace. Today, though, there was something different in her expression - a hint of calculated curiosity.

"Annie," she began, her tone deliberately casual, "I couldn't help but notice...things seem a bit tense between you and Howard lately. Is everything alright?"

I studied her for a moment, considering how to respond. The memory of Howard's confession still lingered, making every interaction with him feel charged with unspoken words. But Catherine's sudden interest in my personal life made me wary.

"Actually," I countered, meeting her gaze steadily, "I've been wondering something myself. How exactly did you convince Howard to let you join the gaming division? He's usually quite particular about experience requirements."

Catherine's fingers drummed once against my desk - a nervous tell I'd begun to notice. She reached for my water glass, buying time with a long sip. "Oh, you know how these things work..." she said vaguely,her usual confidence wavering slightly.

"No, I don't know," I pressed gently. "Why don't you tell me?" Her hand moved to her earring - another tell I'd spotted during our coffee shop chat. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, she suddenly brightened. "Oh! Speaking of office politics, you won't believe what happened in the dev team last week!" "Remember Jake from UI/UX?" she continued hurriedly, clearly relieved to change the subject. "Well, he and his girlfriend just broke up, and he actually demanded she repay him for everything he ever spent on her."

Despite my awareness of her deflection, I found myself drawn in by her animated storytelling."Everything?"

"Everything," she confirmed, leaning forward conspiratorially. "Down to a two-dollar bottle of water and a one-dollar piece of paper. Five years together, and his total expenses came to barely over a thousand dollars,while she'd spent over twenty thousand on him."

"That's..." I searched for a diplomatic response while processing this glimpse into office politics.

"Pathetic, right?" Catherine laughed, but there was an edge to it. "But wait,it gets better. He tried to win her back with flowers, and when she refused,he tried giving them to me instead!"

"And?"

"I turned him down flat. Knowing him, he'd probably try to bill me for them later." She rolled her eyes, but I caught the slight hurt beneath her bravado. "Then this new guy Joey took them and had the nerve to say I was just jealous. Me! Jealous of dollar-store flowers!"

Something in her tone made me reach for my tablet. "Sounds like you need better flowers," I suggested, pulling up a local florist's website. Catherine's carefully maintained sophistication cracked as I selected their most expensive rose arrangement. "Annie,you don't have to..." "Consider it a welcome gift to the gaming division," I smiled, completing the order and watching emotions play across her face. Without warning, Catherine's head dropped to my shoulder, her voice suddenly small.

"You're so nice to me," she whispered.

The moment stretched, raw and uncertain, until her phone buzzed. She jumped up, mask sliding back into place as she checked the time. "Oh! I'm late for a meeting. Thanks for the flowers, Annie.Really."

I watched her hurry away, thinking about how beneath her polished exterior was someone still trying to figure out who she wanted to be. The afternoon light was starting to fade - time to pick up Lucy.

The playground was bathed in golden late-afternoon light when we arrived. Penny was in full performance mode,spinning and swooping through an elaborate rendition of "Under the Sea." Her pigtails flew as she twirled, narrowly avoiding disaster with each enthusiastic movement.

"Look, I'm Sebastian!" she announced, scuttling sideways like a crab before launching into the song's chorus. Lucy watched from nearby, her usual tension melting away as she followed Penny's joyful chaos. I noticed how she'd begun to mirror some of Penny's movements.

Howard checked his phone with a sight frown. "Still no sign of her father?

I shook my head, watching the playground slowly empty as other parents collected their children. "School office says another late meeting."His protective instincts kicked in immediately. "Ill have my assistant coordinate with him. We can take them both home for now." The girs settled into the backseat, Penny's theatrical storytelling filling the car with warmth. Each tale earned a tiny smile or nod from Lucy - more response than I'd seen her give anyone her age.

"And then the princess had to be really brave," Penny was saying,gesturing grandly, "because sometimes being brave is scary but you do it anyway!"

I watched their interaction through the rearview mirror,noting how naturally they'd fallen into this friendship. But something about Penny's constant performance, her need to always be "on," made me wonder.

"Penny,sweetheart," I kept my voice gentle, "who usually picks you1 up from school? Besides your dad?"

The question seemed innocent enough, but Penny's endless stream of chatter suddenly stopped. Her hands, which had been painting stories in the air, dropped to her lap and began fidgeting with the hem of her dress.

Beside her, Lucy studied her friend's face with the kind of quiet understanding that came from knowing what it meant to carry hurt inside.Then, with unexpected courage, she reached over and took Penny's hand.