Chapter 5: Don’t Leave Me Behind

The next morning, after breakfast, Elliot wanted to take me to the police station.

He poured me a bowl of cereal, but his hands were shaking. He barely touched his coffee.

I hugged his leg and wailed, “Daddy, I don’t want to go! I can’t leave you!”

My voice cracked, echoing off the bare kitchen walls. I could taste salt and snot on my lips, but I didn’t care.

The nice lady from across the hall happened to come out.

She was carrying a bag of groceries, her cat trailing at her heels. She looked surprised to see us in the hallway so early.

Seeing this, she quickly hurried over and gently hugged me. “What’s wrong, honey? What’s wrong?”

She smelled like vanilla and hairspray, and her arms felt warm. I sobbed harder, feeling safe for the first time in days.

I cried so hard I could barely breathe. “Da-daddy wants to take...me to the police station...”

The words came out in hiccups, my nose running and my cheeks blotchy.

The nice lady was furious. “You can’t just dump a kid at the station, Elliot! She’s terrified—look at her!”

She glared at Elliot, hands on her hips, the groceries forgotten.

“Daddy, daddy...”

I reached for him, but the nice lady kept her arms wrapped around me, patting my back in soothing circles.

Seeing me sobbing, the nice lady hugged me tightly, patting my back to comfort me. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. I’m here. I won’t let your dad take you to the police station.”

She brushed my hair away from my face, humming softly until my sobs quieted.

Elliot: “...”

He looked caught between guilt and exasperation, rubbing his temples as if he had a headache that wouldn’t go away.

He was about to explain.

He opened his mouth, but the lady cut him off with a sharp look that brooked no argument.

“Mr. Foster, your daughter looks just like you.” The nice lady pinched my cheek, sighing. “Her eyes and nose are exactly the same. No wonder she’s so cute—she must’ve gotten all the best features from her parents!”

She smiled at me, and for a moment, I almost believed everything would be okay.

Elliot frowned.

He glanced at me, uncertainty flickering across his face. For the first time, I thought maybe he saw what everyone else saw.

He looked at me, a momentary daze in his eyes.

The tension in his shoulders eased just a little, and he looked away, lost in thought.

He didn’t try to send me away again.

Instead, he guided me back inside, his hand gentle on my shoulder. I let myself hope, just a little.

Through the study’s slightly open door, I heard him talking to a friend.

His voice was low, almost a whisper, but I pressed my ear to the wood, straining to hear.

“Sam, I need your help with a paternity test.”

“Huh? When did you suddenly have a kid? Whose kid is it?”

“Anna Rivers’s.”

“Her?” The other end sighed. “Why are you tangled up with her again? She turned her back on you back then, used you and tossed you aside, and now suddenly there’s a kid?”

“Is hair with follicles okay?”

“It’s fine, but Elliot, don’t get your hopes up too high. Anna was married..."

The conversation faded into murmurs. I leaned my head against the door, closing my eyes, and hoped that maybe—just maybe—this time things would turn out differently. But hope was a risky thing in this house—and I wasn’t sure how much I had left.