He was sitting up in bed when I stepped in.
So much smaller than when he’d come in. That hit me everytime. His clothes hung loose, collarbones too sharp under the fabric, wrists thin where the hospital band still circled them.
His eyes lifted to where I stood in the doorway. “Daddy?” he asked softly, like he wasn’t sure I was allowed to be here.
I crossed the room in three strides and stopped myself just in time, pulling my hands back before I touched him. I could wait a few minutes to hold him again. Just as soon as we were gone from this shithole.
“Good morning,” I said. “Guess what, cherub?”
He watched my face carefully, searching it. “What?”
“They’re letting you go,” I told him. I couldn’t keep the smile out of my voice this time. “You’re coming home with me. Today.”
For a second, he didn’t react.
Then his breath hitched.
“R-really?” he whispered.
“Really, baby.”
His fingers twisted in the blanket, knuckles whitening. “You’re not lying, right? This is real?”
I crouched in front of him, lowering myself so we were eye to eye, careful to keep my hands visible and controlled. “I’m not lying. It’s real, baby. It should be within the hour.”
His eyes filled, but he didn’t cry. “Do I need to do anything?”
“They’ll probably have you sign a few papers, but that’s it. Daddy is taking care of the rest.” I’d follow every rule they put in front of me if that’s what it took to keep him. I’d play cooperative, attentive, grateful.
I’d feed him properly, unlike them. I’d satisfy his every need. Keep him safe from questions and doubts, and anyone who thought they knew better than I did about what he needed.
“I don’t know what to say,” Elior said, his brows cinched. “Itdoesn’t feel real. Like maybe I’m asleep still.”
“That’s okay, cherub,” I replied, gently brushing back his hair with my hand. “I get why you feel that way, but I’ll do my best to prove to you it’s real. God, I can’t fucking wait to get you home, baby. We’ll get some real good food in you, get those beautiful curves back. It’ll be just me and you, no one to bother us. You want that, don’t you?”
Elior’s chin trembled as if he were holding back a sob. “Please, Daddy.”
I leaned in, pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead, cupping his face in my hands. His eyes were watery. “Oh, my sweet boy. Daddy will fix everything, I promise.”
Twenty minutes passed just like that, him nervous to accept that he was really getting out of this prison, and me comforting him the best I could, promising that I was telling the truth.
Once he was calm enough, I showed him what I’d brought him—a sweatshirt, sweatpants, socks, and a pair of sneakers. The clothes he’d come in with were long gone, tucked away in an evidence locker somewhere. I helped him balance as he stood shakily and changed. When he was dressed, he sat back down on the edge of the hospital bed and let me help him with his shoes.
Then finally, a soft knock sounded, and another nurse stepped in. The young man smiled brightly at us—well, at least at Elior. He waved a clipboard in the air. “Morning, Elior. Ready to go home?”
Elior glanced at me like he needed confirmation. I nodded. He took a breath, then quietly squeaked out a “yes.”
The nurse went through the motions—signatures obtained, instructions repeated slowly and clearly. Elior signed where he pointed, his handwriting shaky but determined.
Just as he finished the last signature, another man knocked on the door frame, pushing a wheelchair. “You guys ready?”
The nurse acknowledged the man, then turned back to address Elior. “This is Ty, he’s going to take you downstairs. We know you can walk, but the wheelchair is hospital policy. He’ll take you outside, then that’s it. Do you have a car ready? We can help you book an Uber if not.”
“My car’s in the waiting lot. Is that good, or should I bring it up to the curb at the entrance?”
“No, that’ll be fine,” the nurse answered kindly. “Okay then, Elior, you’re officially discharged.”
Elior froze, overwhelmed. He sent me an anxious look, as if he wasn’t sure what to do. I helped him up, lightly rubbing his back as I led him to the wheelchair.
