Thea meets Lucas's dad
“Andros, this is Abigail.”
Lizbet—Lucas’s mom—stood a few feet away, her hands firm but gentle on my shoulders. I could feel her warmth through the fabric of my too-big sweater, a sensation I wasn’t used to.
A large man with dark curly hair stood in the entryway of Lucas’s home, his presence filling the space. His dark eyes softened as he tilted his head. “Abigail…what a beautiful name.”
I didn’t know what to say. Men who were kind to me usually wanted something in return. I took a small step back, pressing into Lizbet.
“Lucas found her,” Lizbet said softly, her voice steady.
Andros’s gaze shifted to her, and something unspoken passed between them. “He told me,” he replied, his tone calm but edged with something sharper. “We’ve taken care of that problem.”
Taken care of?
Before I could ask what he meant, his attention returned to me. “That man will never hurt you—or any other little girl—ever again. Okay?”
The words didn’t register at first. No one had ever said something like that to me before, and certainly not with such certainty. When they finally sank in, I felt something unfamiliar bloom in my chest. Relief. I nodded, unsure if I should smile.
Andros lowered himself to his knees, bringing us eye level. “Are you okay?”
I nodded again, my voice stuck somewhere deep in my throat.
So far, I’d had the best meal of my life, taken the longest bath, scrubbed away every trace of dirt—and maybe some memories too—and put on clean clothes that didn’t reek of smoke or sweat. It was more than I'd ever had before.
“Would you like to stay here for a while?”
Lizbet had asked me the same thing earlier, but hearing it from both of them felt different. Like they really meant it. Like this wasn’t a trick or something that could be taken away.
“Yes,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
Andros smiled, his whole face lighting up. “Good.”
He stood, towering over me again, but his presence didn’t feel threatening anymore. “We do have rules,” he said, his tone more serious now.
“Rules?” I asked, my stomach twisting. Rules could mean anything. Mom had rules too, but they changed depending on how much she’d had to drink or what mood she was in.
His gaze softened as he explained. “You must go to school. You must do your homework. You’ll be in bed by eight every night. And there will be chores—but we’ll give you time to settle in before we worry about those. Can you handle that?”
School? Homework? Chores? I’d never had rules like that. My mom’s rules were always unpredictable, tied to her bad days, her highs, her lows. These rules sounded... permanent. Structured.
I didn’t know if I could do it, but they’d already given me food, a bath, and a warm bed. What could it hurt to try?
“I’m okay with that,” I said, trying to sound braver than I felt.
His smile reached his eyes this time, crinkling the corners. “Good.” He placed a large, warm hand on my shoulder for a brief moment. “I’m glad you’re here, Abigail. Really glad.”
For the first time in a long time, I believed I was wanted.
Lizbet—Lucas’s mom—stood a few feet away, her hands firm but gentle on my shoulders. I could feel her warmth through the fabric of my too-big sweater, a sensation I wasn’t used to.
A large man with dark curly hair stood in the entryway of Lucas’s home, his presence filling the space. His dark eyes softened as he tilted his head. “Abigail…what a beautiful name.”
I didn’t know what to say. Men who were kind to me usually wanted something in return. I took a small step back, pressing into Lizbet.
“Lucas found her,” Lizbet said softly, her voice steady.
Andros’s gaze shifted to her, and something unspoken passed between them. “He told me,” he replied, his tone calm but edged with something sharper. “We’ve taken care of that problem.”
Taken care of?
Before I could ask what he meant, his attention returned to me. “That man will never hurt you—or any other little girl—ever again. Okay?”
The words didn’t register at first. No one had ever said something like that to me before, and certainly not with such certainty. When they finally sank in, I felt something unfamiliar bloom in my chest. Relief. I nodded, unsure if I should smile.
Andros lowered himself to his knees, bringing us eye level. “Are you okay?”
I nodded again, my voice stuck somewhere deep in my throat.
So far, I’d had the best meal of my life, taken the longest bath, scrubbed away every trace of dirt—and maybe some memories too—and put on clean clothes that didn’t reek of smoke or sweat. It was more than I'd ever had before.
“Would you like to stay here for a while?”
Lizbet had asked me the same thing earlier, but hearing it from both of them felt different. Like they really meant it. Like this wasn’t a trick or something that could be taken away.
“Yes,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
Andros smiled, his whole face lighting up. “Good.”
He stood, towering over me again, but his presence didn’t feel threatening anymore. “We do have rules,” he said, his tone more serious now.
“Rules?” I asked, my stomach twisting. Rules could mean anything. Mom had rules too, but they changed depending on how much she’d had to drink or what mood she was in.
His gaze softened as he explained. “You must go to school. You must do your homework. You’ll be in bed by eight every night. And there will be chores—but we’ll give you time to settle in before we worry about those. Can you handle that?”
School? Homework? Chores? I’d never had rules like that. My mom’s rules were always unpredictable, tied to her bad days, her highs, her lows. These rules sounded... permanent. Structured.
I didn’t know if I could do it, but they’d already given me food, a bath, and a warm bed. What could it hurt to try?
“I’m okay with that,” I said, trying to sound braver than I felt.
His smile reached his eyes this time, crinkling the corners. “Good.” He placed a large, warm hand on my shoulder for a brief moment. “I’m glad you’re here, Abigail. Really glad.”
For the first time in a long time, I believed I was wanted.