The next morning, Isabelle woke up first. She lay in bed, the predawn light barely illuminating the room. She stared up at the ceiling, contemplating what she would do for the weekend. Glancing at the digital clock on the wall, she saw the time was 5:32 am. Knowing Marilyn would be awake, she quietly slipped out of bed, dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a gray hoodie.
She went down the stairs, down the hall, and into the kitchen where Marilyn sat at the small table, drinking a cup of coffee. A second cup sat at the place setting next to her, along with a jar of cream and a dish of sugar. She sat down next to Marilyn and added cream and sugar to the coffee, taking a long slow drink before saying anything.
"'Morning," she said in a gruff voice.
"Good morning, Izzy. I hope you slept well," Marilyn gave her a tired smile. She picked up a paperback book and began reading where she left off.
"As good as you'd expect," she replied. Isabelle stared into her coffee for a moment before mustering up the courage to ask the question that plagued her heart.
"Can I go to the hospital and visit my mom?" she asked in a small voice.
Marilyn set the book back down, placing her bookmark in between the pages before turning her attention to Isabelle.
"You know you'd need to be supervised," she said in a serious tone.
"I know."
"Then you should also know I need at least 24 hours to get someone to supervise your visit," she looked over the brim of her glasses at Isabelle. Isabelle kept her expression neutral as she stared back at Marilyn. Marilyn's eyebrow arched as a smile slowly crept on her face. "I'll give Mike a call in a few hours."
Isabelle gave her a bright smile as she chugged down her coffee. She set the mug in the sink, rinsed it out, and quickly ran upstairs to get dressed. Clad in jeans and a navy blue sweatshirt, she waited on the front porch patiently for Michael to show up.
She thought about how her mom would be, if she'd be awake, if she'd look worse than when she was admitted. She wondered what she would say to her or if she could convince her to finally leave Jim, or, at least, convince her mom to let her get emancipated. The 'what ifs' were becoming overwhelming and the anxiety of the situation began to make her legs shake.
After close to twenty minutes, the familiar blue sedan pulled up. Isabelle quickly ran to the car and hopped into the passenger seat. She buckled her seatbelt and smiled at him. He smiled back, the dark circles under his eyes more prevalent. He wore the same clothes as yesterday, with the exception of a light gray shirt and no tie.
"Do you ever get any sleep?" Isabelle joked.
"What's sleep?" he joked back. "I had to drive to 29 Palms and drop off a kid with his grandma. The drive was hell."
"Don't they have anyone else to do that?" Isabelle asked, crossing her arms.
"I'm the guy they call when they have no one else," he shrugged. He put the car in Drive and slowly took off down the road.
"I guess me and the agency have something in common," Isabelle chuckled as she leaned back in her seat and stared out the window.
*
Michael pulled into an empty parking spot not too far from the entrance to Parkview Medical Center.
"Do you want me to come in with you?" he asked. She stared up at the building for a minute before answering.
"I don't know. I was planning on, well... I want to ask her to help me get emancipated," she sighed.
Michael huffed. "Good luck kiddo. She might not be so easy to convince," Michael said, placing a hand on her shoulder.
YOU ARE READING
Save Me
Ficción General(Trigger Warning for those who suffer or have suffered from abuse) Michael Emmett, a prudish detective for hire, has been working with Child Protection Services for fifteen years. He's rescued the abused from their abusers, and has hunted down runaw...
