Freed

2

**Tony's Perspective (POV)**

The phone rang right in the middle of a job. I hated to be disturbed in the middle of a job.

"What?" I huffed in an annoyed voice.

"Mr. Capozzi, am I correct? You placed a missing person report for your daughter, Maria," the caller began. But before she could continue, I cut her off.

"Yeah, why?"

"I'm with the Maryland police, and we found your daughter."

"They found her," I mumbled after hanging up the phone. My son, Anthony, looked up at me in confusion.

"Found who?" Anthony asked.

"Your sister," I replied, grabbing my coat as I headed out the door.

I texted Lucas, my other son, instructing him to prepare Maria's room. As I got into the car, I instructed the driver to head straight to the airport. It had been eleven agonizing years since my darling was ripped from her bedroom in the middle of the night. That night had claimed not just my daughter but also my beloved wife, who lost her life while trying to protect our little girl.

Over the years, I had carried the heavy burden of guilt, convincing myself that I had failed them both. I had believed that I had let my daughter and wife die, unable to protect them. But now, the unexpected call had shattered my self-imposed guilt, revealing that my daughter was alive.

A rush of emotions flooded over me - relief, hope, and a gnawing anxiety about what had become of Maria during those lost years. As the car sped towards the airport, I couldn't help but wonder how her return would change our fractured family and if I could ever make amends for those lost years.

After hours aboard my private plane and another car ride, I finally arrived at the police station. The journey had been long and filled with restless anticipation. I couldn't help but replay in my mind the brief conversation with the police officer who had informed me of Maria's discovery.

During the flight, I had found myself lost in thoughts, retracing the events of that fateful night eleven years ago when Maria had been taken from us. The pain had never truly subsided, and the guilt had hung heavy over me like a dark cloud. How had my daughter survived all these years? What had she endured in her absence?

Now, as I stood outside the police station, I took a deep breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions within me. I was about to reunite with my daughter, a moment I had longed for, yet it was fraught with uncertainty. How had she changed? Would she even remember me, her father who had searched tirelessly for her?

The anticipation grew as I walked through the doors of the station, each step bringing me closer to the daughter I had lost for so long.

But what stood before me was beyond what I had ever expected. She barely resembled a ten-year-old, but I knew all too well that she was fourteen. She was clad in an old t-shirt that hung down to her knees, and her entire body was covered in bruises, a painful testament to the horrors she had endured during those lost years.

As I gazed upon her, my heart ached. It was my daughter, Maria, and yet she seemed like a fragile ghost of the child I had once known. Her eyes held a weariness that no child should ever bear, and her body bore the scars of a past I could only begin to imagine. How had she survived this ordeal? What had she endured in those long years of separation?

Tears welled up in my eyes, and soon she smiled at me so innocently. I couldn't bear to see her bruises and scars, so I covered her with my coat.

"Honey, you're going to live with this man now," the policewoman said, and my child simply nodded. She then turned her attention to me.

"Hey, Maria, do you remember me?" I asked, waiting for any response. But she remained silent.

"I'm your father..." I began, but before I could continue, she started to freak out, shaking her head vigorously. Still, she didn't say anything, her gaze fixed on the woman beside her.

My heart sank as I watched Maria's panicked reaction. It was clear that she didn't recognize me, or perhaps she was too overwhelmed by the sudden reunion. I turned to the woman who had been taking care of her, my voice tinged with concern.

"What happened to her? Is she okay?" I asked, desperate for answers and hoping to understand what had transpired during those lost years that had left my daughter in such a distressed state.

"Mr. Capozzi, I think we should talk somewhere else, in private," she said to me, leading me to another room.

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Hello, everyone! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. There's more to come next Sunday.

Thank you for your support!