<h4>Chapter 310: Unsure</h4>


    Here is the diary. I’m giving it to you for safekeeping," Mnie said quietly, pressing the old but carefully preserved diary into Adam’s hand.


    He looked down at it, brows drawing together in surprise, and then back at her."I thought you wanted to go into this with no prejudice," he said, his voice even but curious.


    Mnie’s gaze dropped to the diary, now in his hands — the same diary she’d impulsively retrieved from storage earlier that afternoon. Her fingers curled at her sides as she exhaled slowly.


    "I do," she replied after a pause. "I want to meet them with an open mind - no assumptions, no stories ying on loop in my head so that I can give them a fair chance. But I also remember what happened when you sent me the proof about Spencer. I didn’t even open it. I just... refused to look. Andter, you kept saying how I was burying my head in the sand, pretending things weren’t what they clearly were."


    She gave a small shake of her head, part regret, part frustration. "This time, I don’t want to make that same mistake. I’m not ready to read it yet, but I need to know it’s there. That if things go sideways, there’s something solid I cane back to. That’s why I’m giving it to you."


    Adam smiled and held her," You want me to read it?"


    Mnie shrugged a touch too nonchntly and muttered, "I don’t care if you read it or not," though her eyes flickered briefly — betraying more than her words did. She didn’t want to read it. But she was worried too. So, she was going to revert to her old style. Bury her head in the sand.


    Without waiting for a response or for him to tease her about her tendency of doing this, she leaned forward and gently tugged down the cor of Adam’s high-neck sweater. Her fingers smoothed over the fabric, brushing along his chest and shoulders with exaggerated care, as if checking that everything was in ce. In reality, she was ensuring that her ’mark’ was clearly visible.


    Adam watched her with a raised brow, then rolled his eyes, a teasing glint lighting up his face. "Would you like me to get a cor with your name engraved on it? Maybe add a tag — ’Property of Mnie’?"


    Mnie gave an indignant little huff, but couldn’t hide the smirk tugging at her lips. She leaned up to kiss him lightly, as she said, "Stop dawdling. And go."


    Adam straightened with a reluctant sigh. "Are you sure you don’t want to meet them?" he asked again, searching her face. "If not, I’ve arranged surveince in the private room. You can sit behind the ss and watch — no interaction, no pressure. Just... see them."


    Mnie hesitated. The offer hung in the air, tempting in its distance. Then she gave a small shake of her head — quick, mechanical, as if afraid she might change her mind."No. I... just go and meet them, okay? And then tell me what you think. I trust your judgement."


    ***


    "I don’t understand," Mr. Thomas muttered, his voice low and tight with frustration. "Why do we need to meet this man — this Collins — before we can see our daughter?"


    The edge in his tone wasn’t lost on Marianne or Melody, the two other upants in the room. His jaw was clenched, his hands restless in hisp. The thought that Marianne had somehow managed to track down a way to meet their little girl had lit something in him-a rare, almost childlike hope. But now, hearing about this new condition, this unexpected gatekeeper standing between them and their daughter, that flicker of joy was quickly giving way to irritation.


    He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling through his nose. "I just don’t see why we can’t speak to her directly. Why does some stranger get to decide?"


    Marianne, sitting beside him, gently reached out and patted his hand, her voice calm but firm. "He’s not just any man, husband," she said patiently. "He’s her husband. Our son-inw."


    Mr. Thomas’s brow furrowed deeper, but he stayed quiet, as his wife tinued, "What’s so wrong with meeting him first?" she asked, tilting her head slightly. "Isn’t he the one who’s been looking after her all this time? Isn’t it possible he’s only trying to protect her from more pain -from being hurt again?"


    She paused, watching the flicker of conflicted emotion in her husband’s eyes before adding, more softly, "If he loves her, really loves her, then isn’t that exactly what we would hope for? Someone who stands guard when she can’t do it for herself? It could be a double celebration for us. A daughter and son inw, both joining the family."


    Mr. Thomas let out a slow, weary breath, his shoulders sagging under the weight of all the years they had spent waiting and hoping. The stiffness in his posture eased slightly, though the tension in his voice lingered as he said quietly, "I suppose. But it still feels like we’re being kept at arm’s length. Like she’s always just out of reach... again. And I don’t like that feeling. Not one bit."


    Marianne gave his hand another reassuring pat and offered him a small, understanding smile. "Soon," she said gently. "Once Collins is certain that meeting us won’t bring Mnie any distress, I’m sure he’ll be just as eager to see her reunited with her family. He’s not the enemy, Thomas. He’s part of the bridge that might bring her back to us."


    The older man nodded while Marianne waited patiently. There was still time for him to arrive. The only one who was entirely ufortable with the situation was Melody, who was worried about everything. About Adam’s meeting with her parents to how to handle it if her mother got suspicious.


    Just then, there was a knock on the private door and then, Adam Collins walked in. She looked up eagerly and stood to introduce him to her parents, but he did not even cast a nce at her as he turned towards her parents and walked in, casually introducing himself to them.