Hush (Black Lotus #3)(49)

“Are you getting up?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Breakfast in ten minutes, princess. Get ready and don’t forget to brush your teeth,” he tells me as he stands and walks to my bedroom door. “Oh, wait. I forgot something.”

I get out of bed as he walks back to me. He lifts me up, and I wrap my arms and legs around him like a monkey when he starts kissing my neck. The prickles from his beard tickle me, and I laugh.

“I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you too, birthday girl,” he says before setting me back on my feet. “Now get dressed.”

Because it’s my birthday, I decide to wear as many colors as I can find in my dresser, and when I’m ready and my teeth are brushed, I run out into the kitchen.

“Pancakes!”

“And whipped cream,” he adds.

I take a seat at the table in front of a ginormous stack of pancakes, but before he puts the whipped cream on them, he says, “Open up.”

He holds the can over my head, so I lean back, open my mouth, and he squirts my mouth full of whipped cream.

“When does my party start?”

“Your friends will be here at noon, so I need to get started on your birthday cake as soon as we’re finished with breakfast.”

“You’re making the strawberry cake, right?”

“Of course. It’s your favorite, isn’t it?”

“Yes! Strawberries are my super duper favorite!” I exclaim.

I begin eating my pancake tower, but it doesn’t take long for my belly to get full. I play with my dolls in the living room while Daddy cleans up, and when he’s done, he calls me back into the kitchen.

“Did you want to help me with the cake?”

“Yes!” I say excitedly and then drag one of the chairs from the table over to the counter and climb up.

He pulls out all the ingredients from the pantry and fridge and helps me fill measuring cups that I dump into a big bowl. Once the cake batter is made, he lets me lick the spoon and bowl as he puts the pan into the oven.

While it’s baking we play a couple games of Go Fish and watch Saturday morning cartoons. The timer goes off and we return to the kitchen.

“Is it time for the strawberry slime?” I ask.

“Yep!”

As Daddy prepares the strawberry gelatin, he lets me stab the holes in the cake with a toothpick. When the gelatin starts to thicken a little, I help him pour it over the cake. He puts it into the fridge to set before we go outside to play in the back yard.

“Will you push me high?” I ask when I run over to the swing set.

“You don’t want to do it on your own?”

“Not today.”

He pushes me, and when I call out, “Higher!” he says, “What if I push you into the clouds?”

“That’s silly, Daddy. That can’t happen.”

We spend a good amount of time playing outside, and when we’re done and the cake is ready, he lets me frost it with strawberry icing.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, you know that?” he tells me as I smear on the icing.

“Am I your favorite?”

“My super duper favorite, but I need you to make me a promise,” he says. “I need you to promise me that you’ll stop growing up so fast.”

“How do I stop growing?”

“Well,” he says with animation. “I guess I’ll have to stop feeding you.”

I giggle, “You can’t do that! What if I get hungry?”

“What are we going to do then?”

“I don’t wanna be little forever though. I wanna be great big, just like you.”

“Just like me?”

“Yep! Just like you because you’re my favorite thing in the whole wide world,” I tell him and then lean over to kiss his nose.

“You’re my favorite too, princess pie,” he tells me and then gives me a kiss on my nose as well. “So I guess I won’t starve you. Here,” he says, taking the rubber spatula out of my hand. “I always get the first lick.”

I laugh when he licks some of the pink frosting.

He hands it back to me, saying, “Enjoy,” and I begin licking the strawberry icing.

I take another bite of the strawberry as my heart aches at the memory of the last birthday I had with him, and get back to the next name on the list.

ASHER CORRE

I stare at the letters and begin scrambling them.

SHORE RARE C

HERO CRASER

I take a bite of cheesecake and continue. I know this is nonsense. I’m not even sure what I’m trying to decode, but it makes me feel better than doing nothing.

I continue to stare at the letters.

“My little princess pie,” he says again as I lick the frosting. “My little Elizabeth Archer.”

S O RE





A H E R C R


“Oh, my God,” I murmur and then unscramble the letters.

ARCHER

My pulse picks up as I stare at the letters that spell my last name—his last name. I then look at the remaining letters.





S O R E


Tears prick my eyes and my hands tremble.

I take another lick of the sweet frosting, and he ruffles my hair with his hand, continuing his doting, saying, “My little Elizabeth Rose Archer.”