The sunlit room feels like a world apart from the tense confrontation that had just unfolded. My heart races as I step inside, the floorboards creaking beneath my feet, and the little girl startles, rushing to hide under her bed.
“Hello,” I say softly, trying not to startle the little girl with curly brown hair who scrambles beneath her pink frilly bed; at least, she seems to be looked after. Her big blue eyes flicker up to meet mine as I crouch next to the bed and lift the blanket, curiosity, and wariness swimming in their depths.
“I won’t hurt you,” I tell her.
“Who are you?” she replies hesitantly, clutching a block to her chest as if it could protect her from any harm.
“May I sit down?” I ask gently, gesturing towards the wooden floor beside her. She nods, and I lower myself down, maintaining a safe distance between us. “I’m Damian,” I introduce myself.
“Paige,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.
“Nice to meet you, Paige.” I try to keep the conversation light, hoping to ease her worries. “You have a nice room here.”
“Thank you,” she says, her grip on the block relaxing slightly.
I reach into my jacket, pulling out a photograph of Tandi. “Do you know who this is?” I ask gently, showing her the picture.
Her eyes widen, and she nods. “Mommy,” she breathes out, her expression a mixture of hope and disbelief. She scrambles out from under the bed and rushes to her nightstand. Seemingly forgetting the stranger in the room, she comes over, holding out a picture. I take it, and she snatches the photo I have from between my fingers. “She looks different,” Paige murmurs.
“Your mommy misses you very much,” I tell her, my heart aching for the pain I know her mother has endured. “Would you like to go see her?”
Paige’s eyes dart to mine, and she seems unsure.
“Really?” Paige asks, her voice trembling slightly.
“Really,” I confirm, offering her a reassuring smile. “We’ll take you to her, I promise.”
“What about my Dad?” she asks, and that’s when Azalea speaks from behind me.
“Your father did a terrible thing, taking you from her.”
“Will he go to prison? Grammy said I couldn’t leave the house because if I am seen, people would take me away, and he would go to prison?” she asks, and Azalea smiles sadly.
“He did a bad thing, but I know your mother misses you,” Azalea tells her, and the little girl looks down at the photo in her hands and nods her head slowly.
“And you’ll take me to see my mommy?” she asks, and Azalea nods.
“Yes.”
The little girl looks at me.
“First, let’s gather your things, sweetheart.” I stand up and extend my hand for her to take. As she hesitates for a moment, I offer her a gentle smile and a nod, encouraging her to trust me.
Slowly, her tiny hand slides into mine, her grip surprisingly firm for such a small girl.
“You’re right here?” Azalea asks me, and I nod to her, letting her know she can go back to her mate. Together, Paige and I walk around the room, collecting her worn toys and threadbare clothes. Now and then, I catch her stealing glances at me, as if assessing whether I can be trusted.
“Damian?” she asks quietly, her voice barely audible.
“Yes, Paige?” I reply softly, kneeling to her level once more.
“Will... will Mommy be happy to see me?” There’s a vulnerable tremor to her words that breaks my heart.
“Of course she will be, sweetie,” I say. “She’s missed you every single day since you’ve been gone.”
“Promise?” She bites her lip, the weight of her longing evident in her expression, making me wonder if they ever let her outside at all; she is quite pale.
“Promise.”