Eleanor: Is it really you? Oh God, please tell me I'm not dreaming!
Eleanor dropped heavily onto her knees right on the wet sidewalk, ignoring the cold rain soaking through her expensive pants. Her arms wrapped frantically around the boy, pulling his frail body close to her chest.
Thomas: You... you came back for me? They told me you didn't want me anymore.
Eleanor: Who told you that? Who took you from me, Thomas?
Lily: Mommy, why are you crying? Is this my big brother?
Eleanor: Yes, baby! Yes, this is Thomas! Your brother is alive!
The young girl smiled in pure relief, joining the embrace as tears streamed down Eleanor’s face. The weight of four years of agonizing grief crashed over Eleanor in a single wave, but behind her relief was a sudden, freezing chill.
Thomas: Mom, we have to go before he sees us. He gets really angry if I talk to strangers.
Eleanor: Who gets angry, Thomas? Who is watching you?
Thomas: Uncle Richard. He keeps me in the basement down the block.
Eleanor froze, the air leaving her lungs completely. Richard was her late husband’s business partner, the man controlling Thomas’s trust fund.
Eleanor: Richard? Richard has had you this whole time?
Thomas: He said if I ever ran away, he’d hurt you. He makes me beg on the street every afternoon.
Lily: That mean man came to our house yesterday, Mom. He asked about the money.
Eleanor: Get in the car right now, both of you. We are not going home.
Thomas: Where are we going?
Eleanor: We are going directly to the police station, and then I am calling my divorce lawyer and police chief.
Thomas: Is he going to jail?
Eleanor: He is going away for the rest of his life, my sweet boy.
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