Please Me Daddy (Gracie) novel Chapter 200

I want you to be my mother

Grace

“Hey, hey, what happened?” a woman’s voice whispered nearby. “I heard the director was angry. Did someone do something again?”

I stayed completely still behind the tall shelf, my small body pressed into the narrow space between the books, my fingers tightening around the worn little book I had been reading. My heart started to beat faster as another woman answered.

“What do you think?” the second woman scoffed, her voice sharp with annoyance. “Why else would the director be angry if not because of that unwanted girl.”

“The unwanted girl?” the first woman repeated, sounding curious rather than surprised. “Oh, do you mean Grace? What did she do this time? The director is always angry at her.”

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry.

“Two couples came today,” the second woman continued, lowering her voice slightly as if sharing gossip. “They were looking to adopt a child. And as usual, the director wanted that unwanted girl to be picked.” She clicked her tongue. “But when the couples came, she didn’t even smile. She didn’t act like a child at all. She just stood there, staring, looking like a fool.”

“The couples already didn’t want her because she’s older than most of the kids here,” the woman went on, clearly irritated. “But she just had to act strange on top of that. Of course they didn’t choose her. So now the director is furious that she didn’t get adopted again.”

“I see,” the first woman said slowly. “No wonder.” She paused, then added, “But I don’t really understand something. Why is the director always trying so hard to get someone to adopt her? I’ve noticed she always pushes Grace forward, especially when the parents are from overseas. It’s almost like she wants her out of the country.”

The second woman shrugged, the sound careless and dismissive. “Who knows. Maybe the director has her own motives. But honestly, that girl is just strange. She doesn’t talk. She doesn’t smile. She just sits there quietly all the time. She’s a burden. I wish she’d just get adopted already. Or maybe… I don’t know. She could just die.”

I felt my chest tighten painfully at those words.

The first woman gasped, though there was laughter mixed in. “Come on, that’s a little mean.”

“I’m not lying,” the second woman laughed back. “Everyone wants her gone. Even the other kids think she’s strange.‘

Their laughter echoed softly through the library as their footsteps faded away.

Only then did I slowly peek my head out from behind the shelf.

I hugged the small book tightly to my chest, pressing it against me as if it could protect me from their words, but they replayed in my head again and again, refusing to stop. My lips trembled as I bit down on them, trying desperately to keep myself quiet.

I couldn’t cry. I shouldn’t cry.

I told myself that over and over again. Crying would only make things worse. Every time I cried, the director got angry. The nuns got angry. Everyone got angry at me. If I cried, they would hate me even more.

So I pressed my lips together harder, squeezing my eyes shut, forcing myself to stay silent. But my tears didn’t listen to me.

They slipped out anyway, one after another, dripping onto the pages of the book in my arms. My shoulders shook slightly as I tried to hold it in, terrified that someone would hear me and come back.

Just when I thought I couldn’t stop them anymore, a small, gentle voice spoke beside me.

“You can cry, Aunt Grace.”

I froze.

My breath caught in my throat as I turned my head slowly, my eyes widening in shock.

Sitting right there beside me was a strange little girl, dressed in a pale hospital gown, her legs dangling from the chair as she looked at me with kind eyes.

“Even if we can’t spend more time together,” she continued, holding my hand a little tighter, “I still think I was very lucky to meet an adult like you.”

I looked up through blurred vision and saw Eleanor and Wyatt rushing in. Eleanor’s face was full of worry as she hurried toward me.

“Grace, Grace,” she called softly.

I looked at her, my lips trembling. “Eleanor… Hannah, she‘

Before I could finish, Eleanor pulled me into her arms and held me tightly. “Oh, Grace,” she whispered. “It’s okay.”

But it wasn’t okay.

I broke down completely, sobbing into her shoulder as the guilt crushed me.

It was my fault. I should have been there. I should have protected her. I should have done more. That small child shouldn’t have died, and yet she did, and I couldn’t escape the feeling that I had failed her.

Eleanor held me even tighter, as if she could sense every thought tearing me apart.

I didn’t know how much time passed. All I knew was that I couldn’t stop crying, no matter how hard I tried. Every time I thought of Hannah, of her small body lying cold and lifeless, my chest felt like it was being ripped open all over again.

Finally, my hands clenched into fists as I pulled back slightly.

Eleanor looked at me with concern. “Grace?”

I wiped my tears with trembling hands and lifted my head, my gaze no longer broken but burning in anger.

“I will make her regret it,” I said quietly, my voice shaking with something darker than grief. “I will make her regret ever touching Hannah, even if it’s the last thing I do. I will make her pay.”