“Can I really choose?”
“Yes.”
“A big hamburger,” she said. Then, after a pause, testing the edge of his promise, “With fries.”
“Good choice.”
“And…” She glanced at him. “Chocolate milkshake?”
Owen nodded.
“Chocolate milkshake.”
When the food arrived, Hannah’s face changed.
For one second, hunger forgot to be cautious.
She held the burger with both hands and took a bite so large Owen feared she might choke.
“Slowly,” he said gently. “It isn’t going anywhere.”
She slowed, but only slightly.
Her eyes kept flicking toward the door.
As if someone might come in and take the food back.
“Where have you been sleeping?” he asked quietly.
“Different places.”
“Outside?”
“Sometimes there’s a bench in the park that’s okay when it doesn’t rain.”
“How long have you been alone?”
She shrugged.
“I counted days at first. Then I forgot.”
Owen gripped his coffee cup so tightly his knuckles paled.
“How old are you?”
“Five. I think.”
“You think?”
“My mom said I was almost five before she stopped waking up.”
The waitress came by with extra napkins and pretended not to listen.
Owen noticed her wiping one eye as she walked away.
When Hannah finished, she had chocolate on her upper lip and fries tucked into a napkin.
“For later,” she said, embarrassed when he noticed.
“Good thinking,” he replied.
Outside, the wind cut hard down the street. Owen took off his coat and wrapped it around her. It swallowed her shoulders.
“You’ll be cold,” Hannah said.
“I’m fine.”
She looked unconvinced, but she pulled the coat tighter.
He took her to a twenty-four-hour department store. Not to turn her into a doll. Not to bury her in luxury. Just basics. Warm coat. Pajamas. Socks. Underwear. Shoes. Shirts. Pants. A toothbrush. A hairbrush. Shampoo.
She stood under the bright lights, overwhelmed by choices.
“I don’t know what to pick.”
“That’s all right,” Owen said. “We’ll start simple.”
When they passed the toy aisle, her eyes stopped on a brown teddy bear with a red ribbon.
She did not ask.
She just looked.
Owen picked it up.
“This too?”
Hannah’s first real smile appeared.
Small.
Fragile.
Almost afraid of itself.
“Yes, please.”
That night, when the taxi drove up the long driveway to Owen’s estate, Hannah pressed her face to the window.
“Is that where you live?”
“Yes.”
“All alone?”
The innocent question struck harder than any doctor’s prognosis.
“Yes,” Owen said.
The mansion rose before them, lit like something from a storybook. Stone, glass, iron gates, manicured gardens. To Hannah, it must have looked like another world.
To Owen, for the first time, it looked embarrassingly empty.
At the entrance, she stopped on the marble floor and turned slowly, taking in the chandelier, the staircase, the tall walls.
“Can I leave if I want to?” she asked suddenly.
Owen crouched in front of her.
“Yes. You are not a prisoner. You are safe. Tomorrow we will talk to people who can help us do this properly. Doctors. Lawyers. Social workers. I should have done that first, but tonight, you needed to be warm and fed.”
She studied him.
“Do I get to keep the bear?”
“Yes.”