MY BABY GIRL: Shadow Love S1 🖤

Chapter 10

Hearing Mercy ask that, I instinctively glanced at Isabel.

She wasn't looking in my direction.

She was looking at Mercy.

I wanted to know what she was going to say.

No.

Why did I even need to know what she was going to say?

What I needed — what I wanted — was for her to say the right thing.

And that was: No.

Because Isabel and I had never met.

What happened earlier this morning was nothing but coincidence. We hadn't waved at each other. We hadn't exchanged pleasantries. We hadn't even known each other's names at that point.

So technically — We had never met.

We had never known each other.

And of course — how could I possibly admit to having met her?

If I could wish for one thing, it would be to erase her entirely from my morning. To have never crossed paths with her at all.

Not today. Not ever. Not in this lifetime.

Isabel hesitated.

Then I watched her open her mouth.

Her eyes were filled with honesty.

Damn it.

"No. We've never met," I answered — before she could say anything stupid.

Seriously?

Was she just about to say we had met?

How was she planning to explain that to Mercy? If Mercy asked how — wouldn't that be incredibly awkward?

I shot Isabel a cold glare.

The audacity of this girl.

Didn't she think before opening her mouth?

Was she really about to put me in an awkward situation — right in front of Mercy?

"Mercy, let's go."

I glanced at Isabel briefly then turned slightly toward Mercy.

If not for Mercy, I would have walked away a long time ago.

Why did I have to stay here and endure this?

And Isa was Mercy's friend — as she said.

And Mercy was my…

Ugh.

Thinking about the fact that I would have to keep seeing her face more often — it filled my lungs with something close to rage.

It became so hard to breathe.

Mercy was already talking — filling the silence the way she always did — but her voice had become background noise.

I closed my eyes slowly.

One breath.

That was all it took.

I opened my eyes.

Back to myself.

Fine, Isa.

If you wanted to make things complicated — I could work with that.

---

Isabel blinked.

I watched her process it — the slight furrow of her brows, the way her lips parted just slightly before pressing back together.

She knew I was lying.

Of course she knew.

We had both been there this morning.

But knowing and proving were two entirely different things.

And right now — she had nothing.

I held her gaze for exactly one second longer than necessary.

Just long enough to communicate one very simple message.

Don't.

I watched every word she had been about to say dissolve quietly in her throat.

She swallowed.

Looked down.

Then —

"We haven't," she said quietly.

I almost smiled.

Almost.

So she had made her choice.

Smart.

Or perhaps just self-preserving.

Either way — it worked.

Mercy still looked unconvinced. She had always been too perceptive for her own good. I could see it in the way her eyes moved between Isabel and me — measuring, calculating, filing things away for later interrogation.

But she let it go.

For now.

"Fine," she said, dropping the subject with the practiced ease of someone who fully intended to revisit it. "Let's move."

Mercy bent down toward Isabel's school bag.

And something happened that I had not planned, calculated, or decided.

"Don't worry. I'll carry it."

The words came out of my mouth completely without my permission.

I became aware of them only after they had already landed — hanging in the morning air between the three of us.

Mercy straightened immediately.

Isabel went completely still.

I kept my expression neutral.

If I had surprised myself — I had absolutely no intention of letting either of them know that.

"She hasn't said anything," I said simply, when Mercy opened her mouth to object.

Which was true.

Isabel hadn't said a word.

She was just standing there — staring at me with those wide brown eyes like she was trying to solve an equation she hadn't been given all the variables for.

Mercy turned to her.

"Isa… should Chris carry your bag?"

I glanced at Isabel.

She opened her mouth.

Closed it.

The internal war playing out behind her eyes was almost entertaining to watch.

She was overthinking it.

People always overthought things that were simple.

I reached down and took the bag from beside Mercy before Isabel could finish deciding.

"She's your friend," I said, straightening up and meeting Mercy's eyes briefly. "That makes her my friend too."

I looked at Isabel then.

And I smiled.

It was the kind of smile I had learned to produce when needed — warm enough to disarm, controlled enough to reveal nothing.

Her eyes moved across my face carefully.

Searching.

She didn't trust the smile.

Good instincts.

"Don't look so worried," I said. "I'm not stealing it."

She said nothing.

But I noticed the way her fingers tightened slightly at her sides.

She was unsettled.

What interested me most was that she didn't completely dislike it.

She didn't entirely dislike it.

I could tell — from the way her eyes lingered on my face for exactly half a second longer than necessary.

I filed that away too.