A POOR GIRL DISCOVERS A MAN LOCKED IN A CAR TRUNK — WHAT SHE DOES NEXT STUNS EVERYONE
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The Girl in the Fog
The Seattle fog rolled in thick that morning, enveloping Riverdale Salvage Yard in an eerie mist. Ten-year-old Lily Morgan pulled her worn jacket tighter around her small frame, her breath visible in the cold air as she navigated through the maze of discarded vehicles. Scavenging for anything valuable had become her routine—copper wiring, aluminum, or even intact car parts that Mr. Jenkins might buy for a few dollars to help Grandma Martha with groceries.
Lily had developed a sixth sense for finding treasures others overlooked, a necessity since she and Grandma Martha had been struggling to make ends meet. Her keen eyes scanned the junkyard methodically, and as she approached an expensive-looking black sedan partially hidden behind a stack of crushed cars, something about it drew her in. It seemed out of place among the rusted heaps, and her heart raced at the thought of what might be inside.
“Maybe there’s something good in there,” she whispered to herself, inching closer. As she circled around to the trunk, a muffled sound stopped her cold. She froze, listening intently. There it was again—a weak thumping coming from inside the trunk. Heart hammering in her chest, Lily pressed her ear against the metal surface. The sound was unmistakable now. Someone was inside, their movements growing weaker by the minute.
“Hello?” she called out, her voice trembling. “Is someone in there?” A faint groan answered her, and panic surged through her. Looking around for something to pry open the trunk, she spotted a rusty crowbar nearby. With determination beyond her years, she wedged it into the seam of the trunk lid. It took all her strength, but eventually, the lock gave way with a metallic pop.
Inside lay a man in an expensive suit, bound with duct tape and rope. His face was bruised and pale, his eyes widening in disbelief at the sight of the young girl standing over him. “Help!” he managed to whisper through cracked lips, his voice hoarse from dehydration. Without hesitation, Lily began working at his restraints, her small fingers struggling with the knots.
“What happened to you?” she asked, fear evident in her voice. “Kidnapped,” the man rasped, his eyes darting nervously toward the surrounding fog. “Business partner. Please hurry.” As Lily freed his hands, the man struggled to sit up, his strength fading fast. “What’s your name?” he asked weakly. “Lily,” she replied, helping him remove the last of the tape from his ankles.
The man’s gaze focused on her face for the first time, and he froze, staring at her with an intensity that made Lily uncomfortable. His eyes fixed on a small crescent-shaped scar just below her right temple. “What’s wrong?” Lily asked, suddenly self-conscious. He shook his head slightly, as if dismissing an impossible thought. “Nothing. I’m Ethan. Ethan Harrison.”
Lily recognized the name vaguely. She’d seen it on billboards around Seattle—something about computers or software. Before she could respond, the sound of approaching voices made them both stiffen. “You need to go,” Ethan whispered urgently. “It’s not safe. Go now.” Lily hesitated, unwilling to leave the injured man behind. “Please,” he begged. “I’ll be okay. You’ve helped enough. Go.”
With one last concerned look, Lily disappeared into the fog just as a pair of truckers rounded the corner, drawn by the noise of the trunk opening. Ethan collapsed back, relief washing over him as the men rushed to his aid. “Jesus Christ, man. What happened to you?” one exclaimed, helping him out of the trunk. “Call 911,” Ethan managed before slipping into unconsciousness.
Hours later, in the sterile brightness of Seattle Memorial Hospital, Ethan awoke to the steady beep of monitors and the concerned face of Detective Mike Brennan. “Mr. Harrison, glad to see you’re awake,” the detective said, pulling a chair closer to the bed. “Can you tell me what happened?” Ethan’s mind was foggy, the past few days a blur of fragmented memories.
“I was taken from the parking garage at Harrison Tech,” he began, struggling to organize his thoughts. “I remember a warehouse, voices discussing money, saying I wouldn’t be a problem anymore.” He trailed off, the memories of what followed still too raw—the beatings, the threats, the endless hours in darkness, waiting for a rescue that never came.
“Any idea who was behind it?” Detective Brennan asked, scribbling notes. Ethan hesitated. “I have suspicions. My CFO, Robert Caldwell. We’ve been at odds about selling the company to Globotech. He stands to make millions if the sale goes through, but I’ve been blocking it.” “We’ll look into it,” Brennan assured him. “The truckers said they found you in an abandoned car at Riverdale Salvage. Any idea how you got there?”
A small face flashed in Ethan’s memory. A young girl with determined eyes and a distinctive crescent scar. “A child,” he said quietly. “A little girl found me and freed me. Then she vanished.” “A girl at the junkyard?” Brennan looked skeptical. “Did you get her name?” “Lily,” Ethan replied, the name catching in his throat. His daughter’s name had been Emma, not Lily. But the resemblance—it was impossible.
The age seemed right, too. Emma would be 10 now. As exhaustion pulled him back toward sleep, Ethan made a silent promise. Once he was discharged, he would find this girl again. He had to know who she was and where she came from. If there was even the slightest chance that Emma had somehow survived, the thought was both terrifying and exhilarating.
For two years he had been a shell of himself, going through the motions of living while his soul remained frozen in grief. Harrison Tech had become his only focus, a distraction from the empty mansion that no longer felt like home. Now, for the first time since the accident, Ethan felt something stir within him—hope. Dangerous and fragile, but hope nonetheless.
Outside the hospital window, the Seattle skyline glittered through patches of clearing fog. The Space Needle illuminated against the night sky. Somewhere in that vast city was a little girl named Lily with Emma’s face and Emma’s scar who had saved his life and then disappeared back into the mist like a phantom.
Ethan’s fingers closed around the call button. He needed to get out of this hospital bed. He needed to find her before the trail went cold, before he lost his daughter for a second time. Three days after his rescue, Ethan Harrison stood in the doorway of an untouched bedroom, his fingers tracing the polished wood frame. Emma’s room remained exactly as she had left it on that fateful rainy night two years ago.
Shelves lined with stuffed animals, science fair ribbons pinned to a corkboard, and star-patterned bedding neatly made by Mrs. Winters, the housekeeper who came twice weekly to dust and vacuum, preserving this shrine to his lost child. Ethan’s footsteps were muffled by the plush carpet as he crossed to the dresser, where a silver frame held Emma’s last school photo. His daughter smiled back at him, gap-toothed and confident, her hair pulled back with the sparkly hair clip she’d insisted on wearing that day.
The crescent scar was visible by her temple, a permanent reminder of her playground fall. “I saw you today,” he whispered to the photograph. “Or someone who could be your twin.” Behind him, Martin Chen, his personal attorney and closest friend, waited patiently in the hallway. He’d driven Ethan home from the hospital against medical advice. “You should be resting,” Martin said gently. “The police are handling the investigation. Robert’s company access has been suspended, and his accounts are being monitored.”
Ethan turned away from the photograph. “I didn’t ask you here to discuss Robert or the company.” He led Martin to his home office, where files were already spread across the mahogany desk—accident reports, search and rescue documentation, newspaper clippings; the paper trail of a tragedy that had consumed two years of his life. “What’s all this?” Martin asked, picking up the official accident report.
“Everything from the night Emma disappeared,” Ethan replied, pulling out a chair. “I need you to look at it with fresh eyes.” Martin’s expression softened with concern. “Ethan, we’ve been through this. The current was too strong. The divers searched for weeks. The forensic experts concluded that her body was likely carried out to Puget Sound.”
Ethan finished, “I know what they said. But what if they were wrong? What if she somehow survived?” “Ethan,” Martin said, his voice gentle but firm. “This is about the girl who helped you, isn’t it? The one at the junkyard.” Ethan pulled out his phone and opened a photo app. “This is Emma two years ago,” he said, showing Martin the school portrait. Then he swiped to a second image, a grainy security camera still from Harrison Tech’s facial recognition database, which he’d tasked with finding matches to Emma’s features.
And this is from a convenience store near Riverdale Salvage Yard, taken three days ago. Martin studied the images, his professional composure faltering. “The resemblance is striking,” he admitted. “But Ethan, you know how grief works. We see what we want to see.” “It’s not just the face,” Ethan insisted. “It’s the scar. Identical placement, identical shape. What are the odds of that being a coincidence?”
Martin sank into a chair, rubbing his temples. “Even if—and that’s an enormous if—what are you suggesting? That Emma has been living as someone else for two years? That someone found her and didn’t report it?” “That’s a criminal offense,” Ethan countered. “Or maybe someone found her and couldn’t identify her. That woman found her and has been caring for her, not knowing who she really is.”
By the time they finished lunch, Lily had agreed to introduce him to Martha that afternoon. As they walked through the darkening Seattle streets, Ethan’s thoughts turned to Robert Caldwell. They had been friends once before money and power corrupted their relationship. The betrayal still stung, but oddly Ethan found it difficult to summon the rage he’d felt immediately after the kidnapping.
His perspective had shifted so dramatically since finding Lily. At the house, Mrs. Winters had prepared guest quarters for Martha and turned down the bed in Emma’s room for Lily. After settling in, they gathered in the kitchen where the housekeeper had left a simple dinner warming in the oven. Midway through the meal, the security system chimed, indicating the front gate had been activated.
Ethan tensed, checking his phone to see the security camera feed. Relief washed through him at the sight of Detective Brennan’s unmarked police car. “It’s the detective,” he assured Martha and Lily, rising to disable the alarm. “He probably wants to update us on the security arrangements.” Brennan entered looking harried, nodding greetings to Martha and Lily before pulling Ethan aside.
“Caldwell’s ankle monitor went dark 20 minutes ago,” he said without preamble. “He cut it off. We have units searching, but I wanted to warn you personally.” Ethan glanced toward Lily’s room. “Should we leave? Go somewhere he wouldn’t think to look.” Brennan shook his head. “This place is a fortress compared to most locations. I’ve got two officers stationed at your gate and another patrol car circling the perimeter. Just stay inside. Keep the security system armed and call immediately if you notice anything suspicious.”
After Brennan left, Ethan joined Martha in helping Lily prepare for bed. The girl seemed to intuitively understand the gravity of the situation despite their careful wording, and she was subdued as Martha helped her into pajamas that had been stored in the dresser for two years. “Will you play the piano?” Lily asked Ethan suddenly as he was about to leave the room.
“I remembered something today. You used to play a special song when I couldn’t sleep.” Ethan paused in the doorway, emotion tightening his throat. “I haven’t played in two years,” he admitted. “Not since…” “Please,” Lily asked, her eyes wide and hopeful. Unable to refuse, Ethan led them to the living room, where a grand piano sat near the wall of windows overlooking the lake. Moonlight streamed through the glass, illuminating the instrument that had been silent since the night Emma disappeared.
Hesitantly, he lifted the cover and sat on the bench, his fingers hovering over the keys. For a moment he feared he’d forgotten how to play, that this piece of himself had been lost along with his daughter. Then slowly his hands found the familiar pattern, and the gentle melody of the lullaby he’d composed for Emma’s fifth birthday filled the room.
Lily closed her eyes, a peaceful expression settling over her features as the music washed over her. Martha watched them both, tears trailing silently down her weathered cheeks. When the last notes faded, Lily opened her eyes. “I remember now,” she said softly. “You played that every night before bed.” And then, with a suddenness that made both adults start, she turned to Ethan. “You gave him to me when I had my tonsils out. You said he’d been to space and back, so he knew all about being brave.”
Ethan’s legs nearly gave way. It was true. He had invented an elaborate story about Cosmo the astronaut bear when five-year-old Emma had been terrified about her tonsillectomy. “That’s right,” he managed, his voice barely audible. Lily replaced the book carefully and moved to the bed, where a collection of stuffed animals was arranged against the pillows. Without hesitation, she reached for a well-worn teddy bear wearing a tiny NASA t-shirt.
“Cosmo,” she said softly, staring at the bear. “Then, with a suddenness that made both adults start, she turned to Ethan. “You gave him to me when I had my tonsils out. You said he’d been to space and back, so he knew all about being brave.” Ethan’s legs nearly gave way. It was true. He had invented an elaborate story about Cosmo the astronaut bear when five-year-old Emma had been terrified about her tonsillectomy.
“That’s right,” he managed, his voice barely audible. Lily replaced the book carefully and moved to the bed, where a collection of stuffed animals was arranged against the pillows. Without hesitation, she reached for a well-worn teddy bear wearing a tiny NASA t-shirt. “Cosmo,” she said softly, staring at the bear. “Then, with a suddenness that made both adults start, she turned to Ethan.
“You gave him to me when I had my tonsils out. You said he’d been to space and back, so he knew all about being brave.” Ethan’s legs nearly gave way. It was true. He had invented an elaborate story about Cosmo the astronaut bear when five-year-old Emma had been terrified about her tonsillectomy. “That’s right,” he managed, his voice barely audible.
Lily replaced the book carefully and moved to the bed, where a collection of stuffed animals was arranged against the pillows. Without hesitation, she reached for a well-worn teddy bear wearing a tiny NASA t-shirt. “Cosmo,” she said softly, staring at the bear. “Then, with a suddenness that made both adults start, she turned to Ethan.
“You gave him to me when I had my tonsils out. You said he’d been to space and back, so he knew all about being brave.” Ethan’s legs nearly gave way. It was true. He had invented an elaborate story about Cosmo the astronaut bear when five-year-old Emma had been terrified about her tonsillectomy. “That’s right,” he managed, his voice barely audible.
Lily replaced the book carefully and moved to the bed, where a collection of stuffed animals was arranged against the pillows. Without hesitation, she reached for a well-worn teddy bear wearing a tiny NASA t-shirt. “Cosmo,” she said softly, staring at the bear. “Then, with a suddenness that made both adults start, she turned to Ethan.
“You gave him to me when I had my tonsils out. You said he’d been to space and back, so he knew all about being brave.” Ethan’s legs nearly gave way. It was true. He had invented an elaborate story about Cosmo the astronaut bear when five-year-old Emma had been terrified about her tonsillectomy. “That’s right,” he managed, his voice barely audible.
Lily replaced the book carefully and moved to the bed, where a collection of stuffed animals was arranged against the pillows. Without hesitation, she reached for a well-worn teddy bear wearing a tiny NASA t-shirt. “Cosmo,” she said softly, staring at the bear. “Then, with a suddenness that made both adults start, she turned to Ethan.
“You gave him to me when I had my tonsils out. You said he’d been to space and back, so he knew all about being brave.” Ethan’s legs nearly gave way. It was true. He had invented an elaborate story about Cosmo the astronaut bear when five-year-old Emma had been terrified about her tonsillectomy. “That’s right,” he managed, his voice barely audible.
Lily replaced the book carefully and moved to the bed, where a collection of stuffed animals was arranged against the pillows. Without hesitation, she reached for a well-worn teddy bear wearing a tiny NASA t-shirt. “Cosmo,” she said softly, staring at the bear. “Then, with a suddenness that made both adults start, she turned to Ethan.
“You gave him to me when I had my tonsils out. You said he’d been to space and back, so he knew all about being brave.” Ethan’s legs nearly gave way. It was true. He had invented an elaborate story about Cosmo the astronaut bear when five-year-old Emma had been terrified about her tonsillectomy. “That’s right,” he managed, his voice barely audible.
Lily replaced the book carefully and moved to the bed, where a collection of stuffed animals was arranged against the pillows. Without hesitation, she reached for a well-worn teddy bear wearing a tiny NASA t-shirt. “Cosmo,” she said softly, staring at the bear. “Then, with a suddenness that made both adults start, she turned to Ethan.
“You gave him to me when I had my tonsils out. You said he’d been to space and back, so he knew all about being brave.” Ethan’s legs nearly gave way. It was true. He had invented an elaborate story about Cosmo the astronaut bear when five-year-old Emma had been terrified about her tonsillectomy. “That’s right,” he managed, his voice barely audible.
Lily replaced the book carefully and moved to the bed, where a collection of stuffed animals was arranged against the pillows. Without hesitation, she reached for a well-worn teddy bear wearing a tiny NASA t-shirt. “Cosmo,” she said softly, staring at the bear. “Then, with a suddenness that made both adults start, she turned to Ethan.
“You gave him to me when I had my tonsils out. You said he’d been to space and back, so he knew all about being brave.” Ethan’s legs nearly gave way. It was true. He had invented an elaborate story about Cosmo the astronaut bear when five-year-old Emma had been terrified about her tonsillectomy. “That’s right,” he managed, his voice barely audible.
Lily replaced the book carefully and moved to the bed, where a collection of stuffed animals was arranged against the pillows. Without hesitation, she reached for a well-worn teddy bear wearing a tiny NASA t-shirt. “Cosmo,” she said softly, staring at the bear. “Then, with a suddenness that made both adults start, she turned to Ethan.
“You gave him to me when I had my tonsils out. You said he’d been to space and back, so he knew all about being brave.” Ethan’s legs nearly gave way. It was true. He had invented an elaborate story about Cosmo the astronaut bear when five-year-old Emma had been terrified about her tonsillectomy. “That’s right,” he managed, his voice barely audible.
Lily replaced the book carefully and moved to the bed, where a collection of stuffed animals was arranged against the pillows. Without hesitation, she reached for a well-worn teddy bear wearing a tiny NASA t-shirt. “Cosmo,” she said softly, staring at the bear. “Then, with a suddenness that made both adults start, she turned to Ethan.
“You gave him to me when I had my tonsils out. You said he’d been to space and back, so he knew all about being brave.” Ethan’s legs nearly gave way. It was true. He had invented an elaborate story about Cosmo the astronaut bear when five-year-old Emma had been terrified about her tonsillectomy. “That’s right,” he managed, his voice barely audible.
Lily replaced the book carefully and moved to the bed, where a collection of stuffed animals was arranged against the pillows. Without hesitation, she reached for a well-worn teddy bear wearing a tiny NASA t-shirt. “Cosmo,” she said softly, staring at the bear. “Then, with a suddenness that made both adults start, she turned to Ethan.
“You gave him to me when I had my tonsils out. You said he’d been to space and back, so he knew all about being brave.” Ethan’s legs nearly gave way. It was true. He had invented an elaborate story about Cosmo the astronaut bear when five-year-old Emma had been terrified about her tonsillectomy. “That’s right,” he managed, his voice barely audible.
Lily replaced the book carefully and moved to the bed, where a collection of stuffed animals was arranged against the pillows. Without hesitation, she reached for a well-worn teddy bear wearing a tiny NASA t-shirt. “Cosmo,” she said softly, staring at the bear. “Then, with a suddenness that made both adults start, she turned to Ethan.
“You gave him to me when I had my tonsils out. You said he’d been to space and back, so he knew all about being brave.” Ethan’s legs nearly gave way. It was true. He had invented an elaborate story about Cosmo the astronaut bear when five-year-old Emma had been terrified about her tonsillectomy. “That’s right,” he managed, his voice barely audible.
Lily replaced the book carefully and moved to the bed, where a collection of stuffed animals was arranged against the pillows. Without hesitation, she reached for a well-worn teddy bear wearing a tiny NASA t-shirt. “Cosmo,” she said softly, staring at the bear. “Then, with a suddenness that made both adults start, she turned to Ethan.
“You gave him to me when I had my tonsils out. You said he’d been to space and back, so he knew all about being brave.” Ethan’s legs nearly gave way. It was true. He had invented an elaborate story about Cosmo the astronaut bear when five-year-old Emma had been terrified about her tonsillectomy. “That’s right,” he managed, his voice barely audible.
Lily replaced the book carefully and moved to the bed, where a collection of stuffed animals was arranged against the pillows. Without hesitation, she reached for a well-worn teddy bear wearing a tiny NASA t-shirt. “Cosmo,” she said softly, staring at the bear. “Then, with a suddenness that made both adults start, she turned to Ethan.
“You gave him to me when I had my tonsils out. You said he’d been to space and back, so he knew all about being brave.” Ethan’s legs nearly gave way. It was true. He had invented an elaborate story about Cosmo the astronaut bear when five-year-old Emma had been terrified about her tonsillectomy. “That’s right,” he managed, his voice barely audible.
Lily replaced the book carefully and moved to the bed, where a collection of stuffed animals was arranged against the pillows. Without hesitation, she reached for a well-worn teddy bear wearing a tiny NASA t-shirt. “Cosmo,” she said softly, staring at the bear. “Then, with a suddenness that made both adults start, she turned to Ethan.
“You gave him to me when I had my tonsils out. You said he’d been to space and back, so he knew all about being brave.” Ethan’s legs nearly gave way. It was true. He had invented an elaborate story about Cosmo the astronaut bear when five-year-old Emma had been terrified about her tonsillectomy. “That’s right,” he managed, his voice barely audible.
Lily replaced the book carefully and moved to the bed, where a collection of stuffed animals was arranged against the pillows. Without hesitation, she reached for a well-worn teddy bear wearing a tiny NASA t-shirt. “Cosmo,” she said softly, staring at the bear. “Then, with a suddenness that made both adults start, she turned to Ethan.
“You gave him to me when I had my tonsils out. You said he’d been to space and back, so he knew all about being brave.” Ethan’s legs nearly gave way. It was true. He had invented an elaborate story about Cosmo the astronaut bear when five-year-old Emma had been terrified about her tonsillectomy. “That’s right,” he managed, his voice barely audible.
Lily replaced the book carefully and moved to the bed, where a collection of stuffed animals was arranged against the pillows. Without hesitation, she reached for a well-worn teddy bear wearing a tiny NASA t-shirt. “Cosmo,” she said softly, staring at the bear. “Then, with a suddenness that made both adults start, she turned to Ethan.
“You gave him to me when I had my tonsils out. You said he’d been to space and back, so he knew all about being brave.” Ethan’s legs nearly gave way. It was true. He had invented an elaborate story about Cosmo the astronaut bear when five-year-old Emma had been terrified about her tonsillectomy. “That’s right,” he managed, his voice barely audible.
Lily replaced the book carefully and moved to the bed, where a collection of stuffed animals was arranged against the pillows. Without hesitation, she reached for a well-worn teddy bear wearing a tiny NASA t-shirt. “Cosmo,” she said softly, staring at the bear. “Then, with a suddenness that made both adults start, she turned to Ethan.
“You gave him to me when I had my tonsils out. You said he’d been to space and back, so he knew all about being brave.” Ethan’s legs nearly gave way. It was true. He had invented an elaborate story about Cosmo the astronaut bear when five-year-old Emma had been terrified about her tonsillectomy. “That’s right,” he managed, his voice barely audible.
Lily replaced the book carefully and moved to the bed, where a collection of stuffed animals was arranged against the pillows. Without hesitation, she reached for a well-worn teddy bear wearing a tiny NASA t-shirt. “Cosmo,” she said softly, staring at the bear. “Then, with a suddenness that made both adults start, she turned to Ethan.
“You gave him to me when I had my tonsils out. You said he’d been to space and back, so he knew all about being brave.” Ethan’s legs nearly gave way. It was true. He had invented an elaborate story about Cosmo the astronaut bear when five-year-old Emma had been terrified about her tonsillectomy. “That’s right,” he managed, his voice barely audible.
Lily replaced the book carefully and moved to the bed, where a collection of stuffed animals was arranged against the pillows. Without hesitation, she reached for a well-worn teddy bear wearing a tiny NASA t-shirt. “Cosmo,” she said softly, staring at the bear. “Then, with a suddenness that made both adults start, she turned to Ethan.
“You gave him to me when I had my tonsils out. You said he’d been to space and back, so he knew all about being brave.” Ethan’s legs nearly gave way. It was true. He had invented an elaborate story about Cosmo the astronaut bear when five-year-old Emma had been terrified about her tonsillectomy. “That’s right,” he managed, his voice barely audible.
Lily replaced the book carefully and moved to the bed, where a collection of stuffed animals was arranged against the pillows. Without hesitation, she reached for a well-worn teddy bear wearing a tiny NASA t-shirt. “Cosmo,” she said softly, staring at the bear. “Then, with a suddenness that made both adults start, she turned to Ethan.
“You gave him to me when I had my tonsils out. You said he’d been to space and back, so he knew all about being brave.” Ethan’s legs nearly gave way. It was true. He had invented an elaborate story about Cosmo the astronaut bear when five-year-old Emma had been terrified about her tonsillectomy. “That’s right,” he managed, his voice barely audible.
Lily replaced the book carefully and moved to the bed, where a collection of stuffed animals was arranged against the pillows. Without hesitation, she reached for a well-worn teddy bear wearing a tiny NASA t-shirt. “Cosmo,” she said softly, staring at the bear. “Then, with a suddenness that made both adults start, she turned to Ethan.
“You gave him to me when I had my tonsils out. You said he’d been to space and back, so he knew all about being brave.” Ethan’s legs nearly gave way. It was true. He had invented an elaborate story about Cosmo the astronaut bear when five-year-old Emma had been terrified about her tonsillectomy. “That’s right,” he managed, his voice barely audible.
Lily replaced the book carefully and moved to the bed, where a collection of stuffed animals was arranged against the pillows. Without hesitation, she reached for a well-worn teddy bear wearing a tiny NASA t-shirt. “Cosmo,” she said softly, staring at the bear. “Then, with a suddenness that made both adults start, she turned to Ethan.
“You gave him to me when I had my tonsils out. You said he’d been to space and back, so he knew all about being brave.” Ethan’s legs nearly gave way. It was true. He had invented an elaborate story about Cosmo the astronaut bear when five-year-old Emma had been terrified about her tonsillectomy. “That’s right,” he managed, his voice barely audible.
Lily replaced the book carefully and moved to the bed, where a collection of stuffed animals was arranged against the pillows. Without hesitation, she reached for a well-worn teddy bear wearing a tiny NASA t-shirt. “Cosmo,” she said softly, staring at the bear. “Then, with a suddenness that made both adults start, she turned to Ethan.
“You gave him to me when I had my tonsils out. You said he’d been to space and back, so he knew all about being brave.” Ethan’s legs nearly gave way. It was true. He had invented an elaborate story about Cosmo the astronaut bear when five-year-old Emma had been terrified about her tonsillectomy.
