My heart nearly stopped. I clutched the phone tighter and whispered, “But what? Where is she?” The voice hesitated, then continued, “…but she’s safe. She’s here at the community center.” Relief washed over me so hard I could barely breathe. When I arrived, I saw her sitting alone in a corner, her hoodie pulled over her head, shoulders trembling. Her eyes lifted when she saw me, full of fear, expecting my anger. But in that moment, all I wanted was to hold her. I rushed over and wrapped my arms around her.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” she whispered into my chest. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just… I felt like you never listen, and I didn’t want to come home yet. Then I lost my purse, and I didn’t know what to do.” Tears stung my eyes. “Sweetheart, I do listen,” I said softly. “Maybe not in the way you need me to, but I’m trying. I just want you safe.”
