Questions Without Easy Answers
The police station felt too large, too unfamiliar for Eliza. Bright lights hummed overhead, and quiet voices echoed down the corridors. She sat in a chair that was far too big for her, her feet barely reaching the floor.
Officer Foster set a warm cup of cocoa in front of her.
“Here you go. This should help a little.”
She wrapped her small hands around it, holding on to the warmth.
He asked gentle questions—where she lived, who she stayed with, what had happened that day. Eliza answered as best she could, though some of it didn’t fully make sense even to her.
“Grandpa said I cost too much,” she said softly. “He said things would be easier without me.”
Caleb kept his face calm, though concern was building inside him.
Before he could ask anything else, the station doors suddenly opened.
A couple rushed in, their movements hurried and rehearsed.
The man, Richard Monroe, looked tense. The woman beside him, Eleanor, pressed a tissue to her eyes.
“Thank goodness you found her,” Eleanor said quickly. “We’ve been looking everywhere.”
Richard nodded.
“She must have wandered off. She’s been confused lately.”
Caleb looked over at Eliza.
Her reaction was immediate.
She slid down from her chair and moved behind him, gripping the back of his uniform tightly.
Her voice shook, but her words were certain.
“They didn’t look for me. Grandpa told me to stay there.”
The room went still.
Richard’s expression tightened.
“She’s just upset,” he said. “Children say things they don’t understand.”
Caleb studied him carefully.
“She sounds very certain about what she’s saying.”
Before the tension could rise further, the doors opened once again.
