Chapter 4 - The Blue Door
By the time we reached Miami, Paula had already taken Ella to her bungalow.
But before we left the apartment complex, I wanted to see the place where they had left my daughter.
The walkway was bright with afternoon sunlight. Palm trees swayed over parked cars. A small American flag moved beside a blue apartment door. The air smelled like hot pavement and sea salt.
The woman who had called me stood near the open screen door with tears in her eyes.
Ella stood beside her, clutching the straps of her pink backpack, face swollen from crying.
The second she saw me, she ran.
I dropped to my knees and pulled her into my arms.
“I’m here,” I whispered. “You’re safe now.”
Her little hands twisted into my shirt.
“I didn’t want to stay,” she sobbed. “Aunt Briana said I had to be brave.”
I looked over her head at the blue door.
Preston had not even been home.
My parents and sister had left my daughter with a stranger’s doorway and called it reunion.
My phone buzzed.
Mom.
I answered and put it on speaker.
Her voice came through tight and defensive.
“Dana, you’re overreacting. We were trying to help.”
I rose slowly, holding Ella close.
“You left my daughter on a stranger’s doorstep.”
Briana cut in. “We were helping her.”
I looked down at Ella’s trembling hands gripping the backpack.
“No,” I said quietly. “You abandoned her.”
Then I ended the call.
May you like
I pulled Ella behind me protectively and sent one final message.
You will never be alone with my child again.
