Before he tapped the emergency alert on his phone something unexpected caught his attention.
Celia was smiling. Not a polite, fleeting smile. A full and genuine one that lifted her whole face. The boy spoke to her as though they had known each other for years. He reached into his backpack and pulled out a wrapped sandwich. He offered half to her with a friendly nod. She accepted it. She mimicked the way he held the bread, taking a small enthusiastic bite.
Alastair leaned over the tablet as though it were sacred.
Her lips moved.
He replayed the clip slowly. The movement was deliberate. She formed a single soft word. The clarity of it hit him like a blow.
She said “Hi.”
A sound escaped him, halfway between disbelief and relief. He practically ran through the house and out to the garden. Dry leaves crunched under his feet as he approached the steps. The boy saw him first and immediately stood up. Fear flashed across his face. He positioned himself protectively in front of Celia even though she was still seated.
“I did not do anything wrong, sir,” the boy said quickly. “She just came out here. She seemed lonely. I talked to her, that is all. I will leave. Please do not call anyone.”
Alastair halted, overtaken by the magnitude of the moment. He shook his head slowly. “I am not angry. I only need to see my daughter.”
Celia rose to her feet. Her hand remained firmly on the boy’s sleeve. Her eyes held a new brightness. She took cautious steps toward her father. Alastair lowered himself to one knee because standing suddenly felt impossible. His hands trembled slightly.
Celia touched his shoulder and whispered another word.
“Papa.”
He covered his mouth. Emotion swept through him so fiercely he could not speak. She reached for him and he gathered her into his arms, overwhelmed by gratitude. The silence that had ruled her life, their life, cracked open just enough for hope to seep through.
When he finally composed himself he turned to the boy. “What is your name.”
The boy swallowed. “Corin Denham.”
“Corin,” Alastair repeated softly. “You have done something for my child no expert ever could.”
Corin looked confused. “I just treated her like anyone else. She looked like she wanted company.”