She takes a deep breath, closes her eyes, and gathers the courage to speak.
* * *
“How old are you, sweetie?” the police officer asks her. The woman’s crouched down so that she can look Eden in the eye.
Eden’s never seen a lady police officer before, but she thinks she’s very pretty. Eden likes her shiny badge and the way her radio looks attached to her shoulder strap. Eden holds up her hand, stretching out five of her little fingers.
“You’re five, huh? I have a nephew who’s five. That’s a really cool backpack. Do you like Blue’s Clues?”
Eden clutches onto her backpack a little tighter. She doesn’t like Blue’s Clues despite the animated dog character splashed across the back. She doesn’t watch a whole lot of TV. Mostly because Mom always forgets to pay the cable bill or Dad’s hogging the remote control because he wants to watch football. The backpack itself came from the thrift store. It smells like sour milk.
“Did you have fun at school today?” the police officer asks sweetly. “Did you get to play on the playground during recess?”
Eden chews on her nails, staring down at her worn-out shoes. She can still taste the Cheetos on her fingers. It was the only thing she had for lunch because it was all her mother packed for her. “Daddy says not to talk to strangers.”
The police officer laughs. “That’s really good advice. You’re not supposed to talk to strangers, but youcantalk to me. I’m a cop, and I’m here to help you.”
The little girl shakes her head. “Dad says not to talk to cops. They’re all bad.”
The pretty police officer’s face falls. She looks up at Mrs. Spellman, Eden’s kindergarten teacher. She rises to her feet, the adults speaking in hushed whispers above Eden’s little head.
“How long has she been waiting out here?” asks the officer.
“Almost five hours,” the teacher explains. “I make a point of staying with the kids until their parents show up. It’s getting terribly late. I’m really worried.”
“And you tried calling them?”
“Yes, several times. It keeps telling me that the number isn’t in service.”
“Do you know if she has any extended family in the area?”
“Not that I know of, no.”
“Are you able to tell me what her home life is like?”
Eden stops listening at this point. Adults talk too fast and use words that are too big to understand. She keeps her eyes out on the road, waiting for the familiar shape and color of her Mom’s red Toyota. Maybe Mom will buy her an ice cream to make up for the fact that she’s late. She does that sometimes —buy ice cream to make Eden feel better.
She’s been eating a lot of ice cream lately, especially after Dad yells at Mom.
Her mind is elsewhere. She really wants to go home to show Dad the picture she drew for him. Rachel, one of her classmates, lent her some glitter crayons to draw with. Eden’s never made anything this beautiful. She’s proud of her work and wants Dad to put it up on the fridge. Maybe he won’t be so mad today.
“Alright, kiddo,” the police officer says. “Would you like to come with me?”
“But Mommy and Daddy are coming. They said to be good and wait here.”
She smiles, but there’s something sad about it. Eden decides she doesn’t like it. “We’re going to try and meet your mother and father at the police station. It’s getting awfully cold, don’t you think? I’ll treat you to a cup of hot chocolate when we get there.”
Eden’s tummy grumbles again. Her mother didn’t pack her a big lunch today, and it’s getting really close to dinner time. Hot chocolate sounds yummy. How can she possibly say no?
* * *
Alexander clenches his jaw, doing his best to keep his rage in check. “Then what happened?”
“They conducted a search, but there wasn’t any sign of my parents. I wound up as a ward of the state, placed into the foster system. I bounced around from home to home and eventually wound up in the care of a man named Richard Parsons.”
Alexander’s stomach flips. An inkling of dread fills his guts. He doesn’t like where this is going. “Did he... Did he hurt you?” he asks cautiously.
Much to his relief, Eden shakes her head. “No, nothing like that. He never laid a hand on me.”
