She even smiled at him. Olivia saw a lot in her smile—so much of the young woman she could have been if Gabriel hadn’t stolen five years from her life. So much of the girl who had just been a child when he pulled her from her home. Stacy licked her fingers with the same sort of enthusiasm as a child, not at all self-conscious to be covered in glaze and fruit filling. Nathan handed her a stack of napkins with an amused smile. Olivia leaned against the wall, her arms folded, feeling a sharp sense of déjà vu. Of course she had actually experienced some of this before. Watching as Nathan tried to coax Stacy out of her reticence, hoping she’d give them something new to work with. The urge to apologize was new, though. Stacy had already given them so much information. She shouldn’t be forced to relive her ordeal again and again. She just wanted to go home. Olivia just wanted to let her. After this. We’ll get him after this. We won’t fuck up again. If they had anything to fuck up.
