He had believed the world was cold, dark, and filled with unresolved cruelty. Instead, he was looking at an act of profound, desperate gratitude. “Daniel?” He turned. Sylvia and Detective Shaw were walking quickly down the gravel path, having seen Daniel’s truck and Noah’s van parked outside. Shaw had her hand rested on her holster, her eyes sharp.
“Daniel, are you alright?” Helen called out. “Is this the man?” Daniel looked at Noah, who was sitting quietly in the mud, frail and terrified, looking up at the approaching officer. Daniel took a deep breath, stood up, and wiped the damp soil from his knees. “It’s fine, Helen,” Daniel said, his voice steady and clearer than it had been in months. “It’s alright. There’s no intruder here.”