She was trying to save herself.
The evening air felt cool and gentle, perfect for a stroll. Everywhere she looked, people were laughing together, walking in pairs or groups. Ella shivered a little. She lifted her arms and hugged herself, feeling alone in the middle of all the happiness around her.
…
Back at the old Harmon house, Ella went to see Grandma Chelsea.
When she reached Grandma Chelsea’s door, she saw her sitting with David. Grandma Chelsea was speaking softly. “David, Ella’s foster father came by today. I noticed she didn’t seem herself. You should spend some more time with her, check in on how she’s doing.”
She let out a gentle sigh. “Ella was sent away to the countryside when she was little. Her father passed so early, and her mother… well, you know how she is. I can tell Ella has always been lonely. She just wants to be loved.”
“Her foster father may have been in prison for ten years, but he raised a wonderful girl and now she’s part of our family. The Harmon family should be grateful to him. Find out what he needs. A place to live, a job, money, whatever it is, just take care of it. That way, Ella can feel she’s done her duty as a daughter.”
Grandma Chelsea’s voice was full of warmth and concern.
In the soft glow of the lamp, David’s usually serious features looked gentle. He nodded. “Don’t worry, Grandma. I’ll handle it.”
Ella stood quietly outside, feeling tears well up in her eyes. She didn’t go inside. Instead, she turned away and went back to her room.
…
David was in the study, finishing some work. By the time he made it back to the bedroom, it was already late.
Ella had already fallen asleep, curled up into a tiny ball under the blanket.
After a quick shower, David stepped out and immediately noticed something on the nightstand. It was the one-million-dollar check he’d given Mike.
She had managed to get it back. Now, she’d left it for him on the bedside table.
David’s lips curled into a faint smile as he looked over at Ella.
The bedside lamp cast a warm, soft glow. Ella tossed and turned in her sleep, her delicate eyebrows drawn tight in some kind of nightmare. She mumbled softly, “Mom… Mom…”
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