Chapter 24

Ellie

I had a hazy memory of hearing a voice just before I slipped into sleep. It wasn’t my dad’s voice, but I trusted it anyway.

We’re safe now.

By the time I woke up to the sunlight peeking through the curtain, the voice was almost forgotten. A dream or a trick of my mind, maybe.

All I knew was that I was still sleepy, so I curled up into a ball and pulled the covers over my head to block out the light.

The next voice I heard was my dad’s, trying to gently wake me up. His hand softly shaking my shoulder. I was still sleepy; I didn’t want to get up.

Also, despite the faint memory of a voice assuring me we were safe, I knew what was going to happen today. Any chance to delay the inevitable, I was going to grab it.

I groaned.

“Tired,” I mumbled, grumpily.

Dad chuckled, pulling back the covers.

“No Dad, my tummy hurts,” I whimpered.

It wasn’t exactly a lie. It did ache a bit. Mostly because it was empty. I had that gnawing hunger. I wanted to scold myself. I’d lived with that feeling for a long time before coming here.

Since being here, I’d always had a full belly. I wouldn’t have lasted five minutes if I’d made it out the door last night.

“You’re just hungry, pickle,” Dad soothed as he picked me up.

“Let’s see if Millie can make you some pancakes, shall we?”

I hummed an acknowledgement as I rested my head on his shoulder.

“Still tired though,” I mumbled.

Dad chuckled and rubbed my back, as he carried me through to the kitchen.

Dad sat me on one of the stools.

“Why can't we have a table like Nana has in her kitchen?” I asked, rubbing my eyes.

I still didn’t feel comfortable sitting up so high.

“So I can see you when I’m preparing food,” Dad explained.

I frowned.

“But you don’t make the food, dad. Millie does,” I responded.

I heard Millie chuckle, but she stopped as soon as dad coughed.

“And who made you warm milk and honey last night?” Dad questioned, sternly.

I lowered my gaze.

“You did, Dad,” I mumbled.

He stared at me and raised his eyebrows.

He only had to give me one of his looks to know I’d done wrong.

“Sorry dad,” I whispered, slowly glancing up.

A smile slowly crept onto his face.

He kissed the top of my head.

“It’s ok, pickle, we’re both a little bit tired today.”

He started to cut up the pancake that Millie had made and drizzled it with syrup.

“Here,” he urged, “eat your pancake.”

After breakfast, he quickly bathed me. Today he let me try and clean my own teeth, but I kept on biting the brushy bit, so he ended up doing it for me.

It always made me feel a bit stupid when I couldn’t do the things that everyone else took for granted.

“Don’t worry, pickle, you’ll get the hang of it. Remember this is the first time you tried on your own,” he encouraged.

Dad always managed to make me feel better about myself. Even when I did stupid things like running away.

I suppose I was so used to getting scolded and punished for doing things wrong that even the slightest bit of praise made me feel good. I don’t think Dad had even said once I was stupid.

At the camp, they used to say it all the time. Even Jackson said it. I was beginning to wonder if Jackson really loved me. It’s not like he even tried to find me when I crossed the border.

Dad carried me from the bathroom, wrapped in one of the big fluffy towels. He sat on the bed, with me on his lap, drying me off.

“Dad?” I questioned.

“What is it, pickle?” he responded.

“Will it hurt? I mean today when you cut my hand?” I asked, my voice breaking a little.

Dad wrapped his arms around me a little tighter and kissed the top of my head.

“Maybe just a little bit...but only for a second.”

I thought for a moment.

“Not as bad as when I got shot then?” I added.

Dad chuckled.

“No, pickle, in fact, you’ll hardly even notice.”

He lifted me from his lap and sat me on the bed, still wrapped in a towel while he wandered over to the wardrobe to find me some clean clothes.

He walked over to the bed with another pretty dress. It was white. He also had some white shoes and socks for me to wear.

Although it was nice, I did miss wearing the clothes I used to wear. Even though they were never clean and smelled a bit.

“Dad? Do I always have to wear a dress?” I asked, a slight whine in my voice.

Dad looked at me and chuckled.

“No, pickle, not if you don’t want to, but today is a special occasion and you need to look smart.”

I hummed, “but when I’m a warrior, I won’t have to wear a dress then, will I?”

Dad looked at me and smirked.

“A warrior, eh? Where did that idea come from?”

I pouted and made a serious face.

“Murdoch said he was going to train me. Then no one will hurt me anymore.”

Dad hummed and picked me up.

“No one’s going to hurt you anymore anyway, pickle,” he stated as he carried me from the bedroom.

I frowned. I wanted to be a warrior. I’d already decided.

“Then I’ll protect everyone else so they don’t get hurt either.”

Dad chuckled, “we’ll have to wait and see. First thing we need to do is get those stitches removed,” he put me down near the front door, and held out his hand.

“Is my little warrior brave enough for a visit to the doctor before the party?”

I bit my bottom lip. I felt my heart beat a little faster.

If I was going to be a warrior, I had to show dad I was brave. I took a deep breath. Then nodded my head.

“Ready, sweetheart?” Daddy asked.

I nodded, trusting in Daddy’s promise to keep me safe. He seemed to know everything that had happened, even though I hadn’t shared it with him.

The threats from the bad men didn’t scare me as much as they should have, not with Daddy by my side. But the fact that Erik knew about it all, that was a different story. I didn’t like that he knew.

I also understood that being a warrior meant being brave. I couldn’t keep running away. If I could face Erik, then I could face anything.

As we neared the hospital, I held onto Daddy’s hand a little tighter. We paused at the entrance, and he looked down at me.

“You okay, pumpkin? Or do you need me to carry you?”

I swallowed hard.

“I... I think I’m okay,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

Daddy nodded and gave me a reassuring smile. He squeezed my hand gently as he pushed the door open.

Erik was there, waiting for us. He seemed larger than life, maybe because I was standing on my own two feet this time. Usually, Daddy carried me in.

Erik greeted us with a smile.

“So Ellie, would you prefer to do this here or in my office?” he asked.

I glanced at Daddy, then back at Erik.

“In... In your office,” I managed to whisper.

Erik nodded and led us to another room.

Once we were in his office, Daddy lifted me onto a chair and stood behind me, his hand resting lightly on my shoulder.

“Now,” Erik started, “let’s remove this bandage and see how it looks.”

I extended my arm and took a deep breath. My heart was pounding in my chest. Why was I still so frightened? I clenched my teeth and focused on my lap, trying to ignore Erik’s presence.

When he removed the bandage, his fingers brushed against my skin. I couldn’t help but flinch.

“Does it hurt, Ellie?” Erik asked.

I kept my gaze down, shaking my head.

It didn’t hurt, but I wasn’t comfortable with anyone but Daddy touching me.

Daddy leaned in and whispered in my ear.

“You’re doing great, sweetheart. You’re being so brave.”

I looked up and over my shoulder.

Daddy was smiling.

“Okay Ellie, I’m going to remove the stitches now,” Erik explained, “you might feel a slight tug, but that’s all.”

I nodded, still unable to meet his gaze. But when he held my arm, I didn’t flinch. At least, I didn’t think I did.

The whole thing was over in a few moments.

“There...all done,” Erik announced.

I looked at my arm and furrowed my brow. There wasn’t even a scar.

I ran my finger over the smooth skin.

“I...I don’t understand,” I stammered, looking at Erik for the first time.

He glanced at Daddy. Then I felt Daddy’s reassuring squeeze on my shoulder.

“We’ll talk about it later, pumpkin. Right now, we have a party to get to, don’t we?”

I nodded, a nervous flutter in my stomach.

Daddy helped me down from the chair and onto the floor.

“What do you say to Erik?” he prompted gently.

I quickly glanced at Erik, then dropped my gaze to the floor.

“Thank you,” I mumbled.

Daddy rested his hand on my head, guiding me towards the door.

I looked up at him, hoping for an explanation about my arm, but he just smiled and led me towards the exit.