Page 48 of Can You Take It?

“Montclair’s been in touch, says he wants her back. It’s his blood, after all.”

“Yeah, and Montclair mentioned something about her mother, too. Ran away at seventeen, just like her.”

These officers, who I’d hoped might be different, are just like everyone else. They’re making decisions about my life without knowing a damn thing about me.

I take another bitter sip of that brown liquid, and it’s no longer a source of comfort. It’s a bitter reminder of the world I’m trapped in, a world where people judge and condemn me without understanding a thing about what I’ve been through.

I take one last sip of the now lukewarm brown liquid and then quickly set the cup down. My heart is pounding in my chest as I make my move. I can’t let them catch me.

I slowly rise from my seat, trying not to attract any attention. The room is buzzing with officers, and it’s the perfect chaos to slip through the cracks.

The moment I reach the door, I take a deep breath and push it open. The cold air outside hits me like a slap in the face, but I can’t stop. I bolt down the hallway, my footsteps echoing in the empty corridor.

Behind me, I hear the commotion start. One of the officers shouts, “Hey, stop!” The clattering of boots and the urgent wail of sirens fill the air, and I know I’m in deep shit.

But I can’t stop. I can’t turn back now. It’s a desperate race against time. The adrenaline surges through my veins, and my legs carry me as fast as they can.

I make a quick turn down a narrow stairwell, hoping to throw them off my trail. But I can still hear their voices, calling out to me. “Isla, wait!”

Wait? Yeah, right. I’m not stopping for anyone. I’ve been on the run for so long, and I’m not about to let them catch me now. The staircase seems to go on forever, and my lungs are burning, but I don’t dare slow down.

Finally, I reach the ground floor, and I burst through a side door, back out into the cold. The world blurs around me as I run. I don’t know where I’m going, but I can’t stop.

The sirens are getting louder but I won’t give up. I’ll keep running, keep fighting, because this is my life, and I’ll be damned if they take it from me.

A small voice pierces through my panic, snapping me back to reality. I glance around and see a little girl, no older than eight, clinging to Richard. He’s holding her in his arms, and for a moment, I’m forgotten.

I can’t say that I’m upset about it. The little girl’s fearful expression triggers a strong sense of empathy in me. I’ve been through my share of horrors, and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, let alone a child.

I watch as Richard walks further into the lobby with the little girl, and it’s like he’s a different person. His usual stern demeanor softens as he tries to engage her in a conversation. It’s a stark contrast to the man I’ve come to know, and it’s strangely endearing.

“Hey there,” he says, crouching down to the little girl’s level. “I’m Richard. What’s your name?”

The little girl looks up at him with wide, fearful eyes. “I’m Austin,” she whispers.

“Nice to meet you, Austin. Are you lost?”

Austin nods, tears welling up in her eyes. “I couldn’t find my mom, and it’s so scary here.”

“You don’t have to be scared. We’re here to help you.”

It’s a strange sight, seeing the tough, hard-edged FBI agent being so kind and patient with this little girl.

“Can you tell me what happened? How did you get separated from your parents?”

Austin’s eyes well up with tears as she clings to Richard. “We were at the fair, and there were so many people. I was holding my mommy’s hand, but then I saw this big balloon and I wanted to look at it. When I turned around, Mommy and Daddy were gone. I got scared and started crying.”

Richard nods. “It must have been really scary for you. But you’re safe now. We’ll find your parents, I promise.”

Just then, a man enters the room, claiming to be her father. “Austin! There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Richard’s expression hardens as he assesses the man. Something feels off. Before he can respond, I step forward, my instincts on high alert.

“Who are you?” I ask sharply.

The man looks taken aback but quickly composes himself. “I’m her father. We got separated in the crowd. I’ve been frantic trying to find her.”

Austin’s grip on Richard tightens, and she buries her face in his shoulder.

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