When Sergeant Jack Thompson stepped off the military bus in the small town of Greenville after nearly ten months deployed overseas, he carried only one thought in his heart:
To hug his twelve-year-old daughter, Sophie. He had replayed that moment in his mind for weeks:
Sophie running toward him, arms open, laughter breaking across the old white house like sunlight. But that moment never came.
The station was empty. No Rebecca. No Sophie.
Only the dry afternoon wind brushing past rows of quiet shops. Thinking maybe they hadn’t received his return message, Jack slung his backpack over his shoulder and walked the two kilometers home. But the second he opened the front door, a strange heaviness settled in his chest.
The house was too quiet. Rebecca stepped out of the kitchen with a smile that looked like it had been pinned onto her face moments earlier. “You’re home… earlier than I expected.”
“Where’s Sophie?” Jack asked immediately.
Rebecca blinked—too slowly. “She’s… outside. Probably playing.”
Jack didn’t respond.
He walked straight through the living room and pushed open the back door. And the world seemed to stop. Sophie was sitting alone in the far corner of the yard, wrapped in a thin, dirty blanket.
Her hair was tangled, her clothes dusty. Her small frame curled inward, like she was trying to disappear. “Sophie!” Jack rushed toward her.
The little girl lifted her head slowly—hesitantly—like she was expecting a scolding, not comfort. “Dad…” her voice cracked, and she burst into tears. Jack knelt and gathered her gently.
He felt how cold she was…
how long she must have been sitting out there. When he looked around, the truth was unmistakable:
There were no toys. No signs of play.
Just an old chair, a bucket of water, and the smell of nights spent outside. After a long silence, Sophie whispered:
“Since September… she sends me out here when you aren’t home. She said… I get in the way.”
Jack closed his eyes, fighting a storm of anger he didn’t want Sophie to see.
He carried her inside. Rebecca stood at the table, stiff as stone. “I can explain—” she began.
But before she could continue, the front door swung open. Mr. Robert, their neighbor, stepped in, breathless.
“Jack… you need to hear something. This wasn’t the first time. And it’s… worse than you think.”
Rebecca’s face went pale.
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
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