Page 27 of He Doesn't Deserve You

“Not often, but sometimes.” Mr. Longford bent down to Ava’s level and asked, “Who do we have here?”

“This is Ava. She’s my friend’s daughter. I’m looking after her for a while.”

Mr. Longford smiled, “Hi, Ava. Would you like a piece of candy? There’s a candy dish in the living room. Go check it out if you want.”

Ava released her grip on Roman’s pant leg and bolted into the house, her eyes darting around eagerly in search of the candy dish.

Mr. Longford straightened up, reached for his cane, and said, “Just let me grab my keys, and we can go.” With deliberate care, he turned and made his way down the hallway, each step measured and cautious.

Roman went to the living room in search of Ava and found her with cheeks puffed out, trying to stuff several pieces of candy into her mouth. “That’s enough candy, Ava. You’re going to spoil your lunch.”

Ava placed the lid back onto the candy dish and sighed, her shoulders slumping with disappointment.

Roman took Ava’s hand but quickly let go, grimacing. “You’re all sticky,” he remarked. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” He gently grasped her wrist and guided her into the kitchen.

“Mr. Longford, can I use your sink? Ava’s hands are...” Roman froze mid-sentence at the sight of Mr. Longford lying on the floor, his car keys beside him.

“Mr. Longford!” Roman exclaimed, rushing over and dropping to his knees beside him. “Are you okay?”

Roman lifted Mr. Longford’s head, resting it in his lap; he noticed blood on the side of his temple. He must have hit his head on the corner of the counter when he fell. “We need to get you to a hospital.”

Mr. Longford slowly opened his eyes, looking around in disorientation. “What happened?” he asked, his voice groggy.

“You fell. You have a gash on your head. I’m taking you to the hospital.”

Roman helped Mr. Longford into a sitting position before quickly running to the sink to grab a paper towel. He returned and gently pressed it against the gash on Mr. Longford’s head. “Do you think you can walk?” he asked with concern.

Mr. Longford nodded and took over, pressing the paper towel on his head.

“Okay, we’ll take it slow,” Roman said, grabbing the car keys before helping Mr. Longford to his feet. He wrapped an arm around the elderly man’s waist, supporting him as they slowly made their way out of the kitchen toward the front door, with Ava following closely behind.

“Get the door, Ava,” Roman said.

Ava ran ahead and opened the door for them.

On the drive to the hospital, Roman’s mind was consumed with worry over Mr. Longford’s condition. Yet, amidst the urgency, Emily’s face haunted him. What was she thinking? He needed to see her—there was much he had to explain. But for now, it would have to wait. Regret gnawed at him for dragging Mr. Longford into this mess. His health had to be the priority.

15

Emily blasted through the cabin door, calling out to her daughter, “Ava! I’m home.” She sprinted through the empty living room, her heart pounding as her eyes caught only the sight of her daughter’s toys scattered across the floor.

She combed through the entire cabin, her voice tinged with rising panic. “Ava, where are you?” Rushing to the patio doors, she flung them open and called out to Ava once again. Her eyes went straight to the empty sandbox, and dread gripped her heart. They were gone.

Her breath came in panicked gasps as she dashed back inside and frantically searched for Roman’s phone. When it was nowhere to be found, she bolted back to the car and sped a few miles down the road to a neighboring cabin, her mind racing with the urgency to call the police. Pulling up, she immediately noticed the front door was ajar. Cautiously, she approached the house and poked her head inside, calling out, “Hello! Is anyone home?”

Swinging the door wider, she stepped inside and called, “Hello?” Her voice echoed through the house as she continued walking down the hallway. She hurried into the kitchen past the living room, her heart pounding with every step, praying to find a phone.

At last, she spotted a landline phone mounted on the wall and sighedrelief. She raced toward it, but her foot caught on something on the floor, causing her to slide. Desperately, she grabbed the kitchen counter to steady herself, narrowly avoiding a fall. Regaining her balance, she lunged across the room, seized the phone, and quickly dialed 9-1-1.

“911, what is your emergency?”

“My daughter has been kidnapped. Please send help.”

“Ma’am, I need you to stay calm. What is your location?”

“I’m at a cabin on Oak Tree Road. I don’t know the address.”

“Okay, I’m going to need you to go check the house number. Can you do that for me?”

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