I didn't want her to let go. Not for even a second.
Xander stood beside the bed, his hand resting on Lisa's back, his face wet with tears he wasn't bothering to hide. Around us, officers moved with quiet urgency—taking notes, conferring in low voices, coordinating with hospital staff. I was aware of them peripherally, like shadows at the edge of my vision, but I couldn't look away from Lisa long enough to acknowledge their presence.
I was afraid that if I did, the moment would disappear. That I would blink and find myself back in our apartment, staring at the clock, waiting for a phone call that might never come.
"Mommy, I was so scared," Lisa's voice was muffled against my shoulder, her small body still trembling. "The lady said she was taking me to Grandma's house, but it wasn't Grandma's house. It was a different place, and she wouldn't let me leave."
"I know, baby, I'm so sorry." I pressed my lips to her hair, breathing in the familiar scent of her beneath the unfamiliar smell of wherever she'd been kept. "Can you tell me about the lady? What did she look like?"
"She had dark hair and pretty clothes," Lisa pulled back slightly, her dark eyes searching my face. "She was nice at first. She gave me juice and crackers, but then she wouldn't let me go home, and I asked and asked, and she got angry."
"Did she hurt you?" The question burned in my throat, but I needed to know. "Did she touch you in any way that made you uncomfortable?"
Lisa shook her head. "She just kept me in a room. It had a bed and a TV, but no windows. I didn't like it there, Mommy. I wanted to come home."
"I know, sweetheart, I know," I pulled her close again, relief and rage warring in my chest. Bianca had taken my daughter, terrorized her, kept her locked in a windowless room for days—but she hadn't physically harmed her. Small mercies. Terrible, inadequate small mercies.
"Mrs. Hale?" A detective approached, his voice gentle but insistent. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but we need to ask Lisa a few more questions while the details are still fresh."
"She's been through enough. Can't this wait until morning?"
"I understand, and I promise we'll keep it brief," He crouched down to Lisa's level, his expression kind. "Hi there, Lisa. My name is Detective Morrison. I'm one of the people who helped find you. Can you tell me anything else about where you were staying? Did you hear any sounds from outside? Cars, trains, anything like that?"
Lisa thought for a moment, her brow furrowing in concentration. "I heard birds sometimes. And a church bell. It rang every hour—I counted."
"That's very helpful, sweetheart. You're very observant." The detective made a note. "What about the lady who took you? Did she say anything about why she brought you there? Did she mention any names?"
"She talked on the phone a lot and called someone Jerry. Or Gerald… She said something about making someone sorry," Lisa's lower lip trembled. "She said my daddy did bad things and needed to learn a lesson. But Daddy doesn't do bad things, Daddy's nice."
Xander made a strangled sound beside me. When I glanced at him, his face had gone gray, guilt carved into every line.
"Your daddy is very nice," the detective agreed. "And he's been working very hard to find you. We all have." He stood, tucking his notepad away. "That's enough for now, We'll have more questions tomorrow, but right now you should rest."
"Thank you, Detective," My voice came out steadier than I felt. "Do you know how she was found? Who called it in?"
"An anonymous tip. Someone reported seeing a child matching Lisa's description at a gas station outside the city," he paused, choosing his words. "The woman who took her panicked when she realized the police were closing in. She left Lisa at a rest stop and fled."
"She just... left her there?" Horror and relief tangled together in my chest. "Alone?"
"A truck driver found her sitting on a bench, crying, and he called 911 immediately," The detective's expression softened. "She was scared, but she was smart. She remembered her full name and your phone number, just like you taught her."
I looked down at Lisa, pride swelling through the terror. "You remembered?"
"You said if I ever got lost, I should tell a grown-up my name and your phone number," Lisa nodded solemnly. "So I did, and the nice truck man called, and then the police came."
"That was so brave, baby, so incredibly brave," I hugged her again, my tears soaking into her tangled hair. "I'm so proud of you."
The door opened and a nurse entered with a tray of juice and crackers. "How are we doing in here? Lisa, are you hungry? The doctor said you can have something to eat if you're feeling up to it."
Lisa's eyes brightened at the sight of food. She'd been dehydrated when they found her—days of minimal care taking their toll. The nurse helped arrange the tray while I reluctantly loosened my grip enough for Lisa to eat.
"I want to go home," Lisa said between bites of cracker. "I want to see Nina. Is Nina okay?"
"Nina's fine, sweetheart. She's at home with Sarah, waiting for you," I smoothed her hair back from her face. "We'll go home as soon as the doctors say you're ready."
"Can we go now?"
"Soon. They just want to make sure you're healthy first," I glanced at Xander, who had been silent since Lisa's comment about their daddy doing bad things. "Why don't you finish your juice, and Daddy and I will talk to the nurse about when we can leave?"
We stepped just outside the door, close enough that I could still see Lisa through the glass partition. Xander leaned against the wall, his head bowed, his shoulders shaking.
"She's okay,” I touched his arm gently. "She's scared and confused, but she's okay."
"I did this," his voice was ragged with self-loathing. "Bianca took her to get to me, to punish me for refusing to give up the company and step back. If I'd just given her what she wanted—"
"She would have found another way to hurt us. People like Bianca don't stop at one victory," I stepped closer, forcing him to meet my eyes. "This isn't your fault. The only person responsible for kidnapping our daughter is the woman who did it."
"But—"
"We'll talk about that later. Right now, our daughter needs us to be strong and present and focused on her recovery," I kept my voice firm despite the exhaustion threatening to pull me under. "Whatever happened between you and Bianca, whatever you didn't tell me—it matters, and we will deal with it. But not tonight."
He nodded slowly, wiping his face with the back of his hand. "You're right."
We returned to the room together, settling on either side of the hospital bed, our hands finding each other across Lisa's small body. She'd finished her crackers and was fighting to keep her eyes open, exhaustion finally catching up with the adrenaline that had kept her alert.
Her voice was barely a whisper now. "Mommy, will you stay with me tonight?"
"I'm not going anywhere, baby, I promise," I kissed her forehead, her cheeks, the tip of her nose. "I'll be right here when you wake up."
Lisa's eyes drifted closed, her breathing slowly evening out into the rhythm of sleep. I watched her chest rise and fall, counting each breath like a prayer of gratitude.
She was alive, and she was home.
The rest could wait until morning. Tonight, all that mattered was that my daughter was sleeping peacefully beside me, her small hand curled around my finger, anchoring me to a reality I'd been terrified I might never have again.