Redemption (The Restoration Series Book 1) by Christina Simpson Page A

dress down past her knees as she closed her eyes and violently shook her head. I took in her stiffened muscles and sadness overtook me.
     “Don’t worry. I will not touch you. I promise. Just let me open the door.” She glances up, still weary of me. She hesitates for a few moments and then sighs in resignation and timidly moves to the side. She peered at me through the curtain of her hair and I could see a mixture of hope and fear. I shoved the key into the lock and pushed the door open, stepping aside to allow her to enter ahead of me.
     “I have a friend coming over. She’s going to take you back to your parents. Do you understand?”
     “Yes.” She hesitates to make eye contact with me, and the look of confusion stretched across her brows. I can tell she is unsure of what is going to happen, or if she can trust me.
     “Good girl. Would you like something to eat or drink?”
     “Can I have some water, please?”
     “Sure.” I moved into the kitchen and swung open the door to the fridge. My fingers clenched around a cold bottle of water, almost too tightly that it might have burst open. How long had it been since this young girl had fresh water? How long had she been kept on the brink of life, minimally cared for in order to keep her alive? I glanced over at her small frame, nearlyskin and bones, and anger boils inside me once more. I forced myself to relax so as to not frighten her more. At least I was able to get her out. It was rare, but money talks.
     “I’ll set it here for you,” I said as I placed it on the coffee table in front of her. Her eyes jumped to mine, full of questions. She glanced at the bottle of water and I watched as her small tongue darted out to wet her dry, cracked lips. She nervously reached for the bottle and brought it to her mouth, tipping it slowly. Her guarded eyes never left me, watching to see if I would snatch it from her tiny hands. I grimaced as I noticed the bruising around her throat in the shape of thick fingers. Fire raged through my bones and I wanted nothing more than to find her abuser and make him suffer.
     “Thank you.” Her little voice quietly carried through the space.
     “You’re welcome.” I strode to the kitchen, yanking a small towel from the cabinet above the sink and dampening it with warm water. I soaked it thoroughly before carrying it back toShilah and offering it to her to clean the dirt from her face.
     A few minutes later, Nicole walked in. Her eyes went wide and wet the moment she saw the girl.
     “Hi. I’m Nicole.” She spoke softly, bending down on her haunches, bringing herself to the same level as the child asto not seem threatening in any way.
     “I’mShilah,” the girl said quietly.
     Catching Nicole’s sight, I tilted my head in the direction of the kitchen, motioning for her to follow me. Nicole nodded, then gently caressed the girl’s knotted hair and stands to join me, moving fluidly through my space. Nicole stood in view of the doorway, as to keep an eye onShilah. With every word I spoke, her face grew more somber, digesting the information. I knew how she felt. 
     No matter how many times we’ve heard the stories before, it always pierces through us every single case. Her face tightened as I pointed out the bruising around her neck. When she had all the information, she went over toShilah and pulled her into her arms, stroking the girl’s hair.Shilah stiffened, but after a moment, she relaxed, letting tears fall down her face and soak Nicole’s blue shirt.
     Nicole prolonged the emotional moment, but finally it was time to leave. She ushered the child out the door and into the waiting car. I watched out the window as the car disappeared around the corner. I squeezed my eyes shut against the images racing through my head, but I couldn’t turn them off. With a growl of frustration, I turn and use all my strength to plow my fist through the wall beside me.
      “I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”