Page 18 of Unwrapped

Her solemn brown eyes meet mine. “Freddie. My name is Freddie Pearce.”

“I’m Dare Preston. Short for Darren. How old are you Freddie?”

My question makes her nervous and she backs up. I hold up my hands. “I’m just curious. I swear. I’d never hurt a child.”

“Ten. Almost eleven. I gotta go. I have six more blocks to walk before I get to school.” She turns quickly and tucks her bare hands into the sleeves of the sweatshirt.

I duck into the café watching her go with a frown. I order my signature blend, a hot chocolate and a blueberry muffin. It doesn’t take long for my long legs to catch up to her. “Here. I was a victim of the system myself. Dance Freddie. Even if it’s just for yourself—even if no one can see you.” I try handing her a hundred-dollar bill, but she refuses.

“I can’t. They’ll take it from me…accuse me of stealing it. And if I buy something with it—they’ll take that too.”

Shit.

“Take it. Use it for food then, Freddie. Be smart about it, a bagel for breakfast…a sandwich on your way home. Take care of yourself, kid.”

“Why do you even care?”

“Because, Freddie. I’ve been where you are. Merry Christmas.”

“I don’t believe in Christmas.”

“I know. But we all need to believe in something.”

“What do you believe in then?”

“In surviving.”

“Thanks.” She takes the bill and hides it inside her sock.

“Good luck, Freddie.”

She gives a small wave as she walks off clutching the bag with the muffin and take small sips of the hot chocolate I bought.

See? Maybe I’m not such a Grinch after all.

I make a mental note of the name of the store next to the café where Freddie stood hoping for something, she knows she’ll never have. Then I text Claudia.

Me:Call my investigator. Find out everything on a ten-year-old-girl, Freddie Pearce. She’s in foster care. Also, when the toy shop on Chicago Ave opens call and order the ballerina box from the window. I want it personally delivered to Freddie on Christmas Eve by a man in a Santa suit. FYI …I don’t care how much it costs. Get it done.

Claudia:I’m on it. Did you forget you gave me today off?

Me: Shit.

Claudia:It’s fine. I already rescheduled your flight. Doing this for Freddie will be my pleasure.

Me:I just decided to give you a Christmas bonus. I’ll have HR wire it into your account.

Claudia:Thanks Darren. Have a safe trip.

I tuck my phone back inside my pocket. I pass by a school that I have done a hundred times without giving it more than a glance. This time I do more than glance. I swallow hard noticing the small figure in an oversized gray sweatshirt, huddled over her cup of hot chocolate.

Something in me cracks.

My fists clench.

She’s so cold and alone. In a few years—God knows what sick fuck’s house she could end up in. Something inside me breaks. She’s so precious; so fragile.

I pull my phone back out, this time I don’t text.

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