“A cop took you from me,” he corrected. “But I found you first.”
He described the glitter butterfly I’d had painted on my cheek that day.
He was right. And it broke something open inside me.
He swallowed hard. “She didn’t look at me like I were dangerous. She looked at me like a person. She thanked me. Then she asked my name… No one had done that in years.”
My hands shook as Eli continued.
I wiped my face, tears streaming down.
“I watched you grow up,” Eli added softly. “Not like a stalker. Just from a distance. She’d tell me things when she brought dinner. ‘Abby has passed her driver’s test.’ ‘She’s off to college.’ ‘She got her first real job.'”
I could barely breathe. “She talked about me? To you?”
He nodded. “Like you were her entire world.”
His words hit like waves. And then something even heavier landed next.
“I got help,” he said, looking down at his hands. “Years ago. Your mom connected me with a counseling program. Job training. I learned a trade. Started working and saving money.”