I sat in the grass and stared at her name.
“Hey, Mom,” I whispered. “I’m hiding again.”
My throat tightened.
“I miss you.”
Then a voice came from behind me.
My whole body locked.
I turned, and my heart jumped into my throat.
A woman stood there in a coat and scarf, hands clasped tight.
Her face looked like my mom’s face. Same eyes. Same cheekbones.
Same lavender smell.
“Mom?” I whispered.
Her expression cracked.
“No, honey.”
“Then why do you look like her?” I demanded. “Who are you?”
She looked at the headstone.
Then at me.
“I’m Nadine,” she said. “I’m your mom’s mother.”
I backed up.
“That’s not true.
Dale said she had no family.”
Nadine’s jaw set. “Dale said what helped Dale.”
She pulled a photo from her purse and held it out like I might bite her.
I took it.
My mom sat on a couch, younger, holding a baby wrapped in a blanket.
Me.
My hands started shaking.
“I have boxes,” Nadine said. “Cards.
Letters.
Gifts. I tried to send them.”
“I never got anything,” I said.
“I know.” Her voice went sharp.
“Because they didn’t reach you.”
I stared at the photo until it blurred.
“I come here every week,” Nadine said. “I’ve been hoping you’d show up.”
“Why?” My voice cracked.
“Because Dale made sure I couldn’t find you anywhere else,” she said.
“And because this was the only place I knew you might come.”
She studied my face.
“Are you safe with him?”
I opened my mouth. Nothing came out.
Nadine nodded like she’d heard me anyway.
She reached for my hand. I flinched.
She stopped.
“Okay,” she said quickly.
“No touching.”
Then she said, steady, “You’re coming with me.”
I should’ve run. I didn’t.
She felt like a doorway to something new.
So I nodded.
“Okay.”
Her car smelled like peppermint and clean laundry. I sat stiff, ready to bolt.
“You can tell me to stop,” Nadine said.
I didn’t say anything.
I was tense, but I was willing to take a risk.
Her house was small and lived-in.
Wind chimes on the porch. Inside, a man stepped into the hall, tall and tense.
“Oh,” he said, staring at me. “Hi.”
Nadine said, “Wyatt, this is Corbin.”
Corbin smiled tentatively.
“I’m your uncle.”
I stared at him.
“I don’t have—”
“I know,” he cut in. “You’ve been told that.
But we’re here.”
Nadine asked, “Hot chocolate?”
I almost said no out of habit. I always had to stay out of the way
Corbin said, “You’re more than welcome to a cup.”
I nodded.
“Yes, thank you.”
While Corbin poured the cocoa, he opened a closet and dragged out a plastic bin.
He set it on the coffee table and flipped the lid.
Envelopes. Stacks of them. Some stamped.
Some returned to sender.
Some unopened.
Nadine tapped the top one. “That’s your 10 birthday,” she said.
“I wrote ‘Please give to Wyatt’ in big letters.”
I stared at my name in her handwriting like it was a trick.
Corbin slid another envelope forward. “That’s the one we sent after your mom’s funeral,” he said.
“We begged him to let us see you.”
I swallowed.
“He told me nobody asked.”
Nadine’s eyes hardened. “He lied.”
I set the photo down and pressed my palms to my knees so they wouldn’t shake.
“What if he calls the cops?” I asked. “What if he says you kidnapped me?”
Corbin leaned in.
“Then we tell them the truth,” he said.
“And we show them this bin.”
Nadine sat across from me. “Tell us about Dale,” she said.
My stomach flipped.
If I said it out loud, it would be real.
“He yells,” I said.
Corbin’s voice was careful. “Does he hurt you?”
I hesitated.
Nadine said, “Whatever you say, we’re not sending you back.”
That made my eyes burn.
“He grabs me,” I admitted.
“My wrist.
My arm. When he’s mad. Or when people are over.”
“Has he hit you?” Corbin asked.
I shook my head.
Then I said, “No.
But he yells a lot.”
Silence.
Nadine pressed her lips together so hard they went white.
Corbin stared at the floor like he was holding something back.
Nadine exhaled. “We tried to reach you,” she said.
“Dale blocked everything. Threatened legal action.
Called us unstable.”
“He can’t do that,” I said, too fast.
“He did,” Corbin said.
“He had papers. He wanted you cut off.”
My chest tightened. “Why?”
Nadine’s eyes glistened.
“Because he was overwhelmed after your mom died.
She was always the strong one.”
She stood.
Panic hit me. “He’ll—”
“He’ll charm,” Corbin said.
“Let him. We won’t be alone with him.”
A cruiser met us down the street from Dale’s house.
The officer listened, then turned to me.
“Wyatt,” she said, “do you want to leave that house today?”
My throat felt glued shut.
I nodded.
We walked up to the door. The officer knocked.
Dale opened it with his smile ready.
Then he saw me.
His smile twitched. His eyes went cold.
Then he noticed Nadine, Corbin, and the officer, and his mask snapped back on.
“Well,” he said, bright, “what’s going on?”
“Sir,” the officer said, “we’re removing the minor during an investigation.”
Dale laughed.
“This is ridiculous. He’s upset because I have rules.”
The officer didn’t laugh.
Dale tried again, softer.
“Officer, you don’t understand. He’s dramatic.
He gets it from his mother.”
Nadine’s head snapped up.
“Don’t talk about her,” she said.
Dale’s smile tightened. “I’m just telling the truth.”
Corbin stepped forward. “You don’t own him.”
Dale’s jaw flexed.
“And you are?”
Nadine didn’t blink.
“Nadine.”
Fear flashed across Dale’s face. He covered it with a smile.
“I don’t know who you people are,” he said.
“But you can’t take my kid.”
Nadine’s voice stayed calm. “You stole 11 years.
You don’t get one more day.”
Dale looked at me like he could still scare me into staying.
The officer stepped between us.
“Wyatt, grab what you need.”
I went to my room with the officer behind me. I grabbed a hoodie, my charger, and my mom’s bracelet from my drawer.
My fingers shook so hard I dropped the bracelet once.
When I came back, Dale leaned close and muttered, “You’re making a mistake.”
I walked past him without answering.
At Nadine’s, the first night I didn’t sleep. The bed was too soft.
The quiet was too quiet.
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