Motherless

Coming Home

Detective Hall

Talia's voice was small, almost inaudible as she sat there, clutching the jacket around her even tighter. Her eyes, still red and swollen from crying, flickered nervously as she spoke.

"Can I stay here? I don't... I don't want to go back to the foster home," she whispered, her voice trembling.

I paused, feeling the weight of her request. Legally, she should go back to the foster home, but after everything she'd been through tonight... I couldn't force her to return to a place where she felt unsafe, at least not yet. My heart ached for her. The system wasn't perfect, and sometimes it failed kids like Talia. But tonight, I could make sure she had a safe place to rest.

"Alright," I said softly, kneeling down in front of her so she could see the sincerity in my eyes. "You can stay here tonight. But only for tonight, okay? We'll figure things out tomorrow."

Her eyes filled with a mixture of relief and gratitude, and she nodded quickly, her small frame relaxing just a little.

"Come on," I said gently, standing up and offering her my hand. "I'll take you somewhere quiet, where you can rest."

I led her down the hallway, past the busy desks and detectives talking in low voices, to a quiet room we used for witnesses and victims who needed a break from the chaos. It wasn't much—just a couple of small beds with thin blankets, but it was better than sending her back out into the unknown tonight.

"This is the quiet room," I explained as we stepped inside. "You can stay here, get some rest."

Talia looked around, her eyes scanning the room before settling on one of the beds. I could tell she was still on edge, her body tense, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.

"I'll be right back," I said. "I'll get you something to wear. I know you're uncomfortable in those clothes."

She nodded, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of my jacket as she sat down on the bed.

I stepped out and made my way down to the locker area, knowing we didn't have much in terms of spare clothes. I found a plain shirt and a pair of pants, both too large for her, but they were clean and soft enough. I grabbed them and headed back to the quiet room, hoping they would give her even a small bit of comfort.

When I returned, Talia was still sitting on the bed, staring down at her lap, lost in thought. I handed her the clothes, apologizing as I did.

"These are a little big, but it's the best we've got right now."

She took the clothes, looking at them for a moment before shaking her head with a small, tired smile. "It's okay. Thank you."

I turned around to give her some privacy as she changed. After a minute, I heard her footsteps as she padded back to the bed. When I turned, she was curled up on top of the blanket, the oversized clothes hanging off her small frame, but she looked a little more relaxed.

I moved toward the door, ready to give her space, but before I could step out, her voice stopped me.

"Detective Hall?"

I turned back to her, seeing the fear and uncertainty still lingering in her eyes. "Yeah, Talia?"

"Can... can you stay?" she asked softly. "Just for a little while. I don't... I don't want to be alone."

Her words tugged at me. I wasn't supposed to stay, but how could I leave her now? This girl had been through so much, more than anyone her age should ever have to face. If she needed me to stay, then I'd stay.

"Of course," I said, pulling up a chair beside her bed and sitting down. "I'll stay as long as you need."

Talia lay back against the pillow, her eyes searching mine for reassurance. For a moment, neither of us spoke, the quiet of the room settling around us like a fragile shield against the chaos outside.