Chapter 2
1629 Words
On a narrow path near the city Plaza, Roland casually slipped off the handcuffs and tossed them into a nearby trash can.
“Those things might work on pigs, but on me? Please… That woman’s IQ is laughable.”
As for Zoey labelling him a top suspect? He couldn’t care less.
Leaving the station Roland looked up at the skyline of towering buildings.
His eyes welled with emotion.
“Ten years… I’ve finally come home.”
He stretched his arms wide, letting the late-afternoon sun kiss his skin.
The air buzzed with car horns, distant laughter, and the scent of tacos and engine oil.
He closed his eyes, steadying himself in the heartbeat of the city he knew by heart.
Memories came crashing in like a flood.
He’d been twelve. A heated argument with his father drove him to run away. But before he could even cool off, he was kidnapped—trafficked overseas, and enslaved at a drug cartel base.
The criminals were vicious. He was beaten to the brink of death more times than he could count. And back then he was only a child.
Now…
Roland opened his eyes. A bitter smile tugged at his lips.
If he hadn’t stormed out that night… maybe he wouldn’t have become the man he was today.
Pushing the thoughts aside, his heart stirred at the idea of seeing his parents again. After ten long years, he was finally home.
He quickened his steps.
Minutes later, he arrived at his family’s home—a modest two story building.
At the familiar doorstep, Roland knocked gently and drew in a deep breath.
If Dad opened the door… I’d hug him right away. Pour ten years of longing into that embrace.
If it was Mom… or my little sister…
So many scenes raced through his mind until the door creaked open.
A young girl stood there, dressed in a worn school uniform. Her twin ponytails framed a delicate, youthful face that hinted at the beauty she’d become.
“Who are you looking for?” she asked casually, clearly exhausted.
Roland stood frozen, gazing at her. The sight of her stole his breath.
The girl’s brows creased, confused by how intensely he was staring at her.
Then, without warning, Roland lunged forward and wrapped her in a tight hug.
“Help!!!”
She opened her mouth to scream again when Roland quickly pulled back. “Lauren! It’s me… It's your brother!”
She stiffened. “My brother?”
She stared at him, confused. Her long-lost brother… back after all these years?
“It’s me,” he said, smiling through the tears. “You used to stick hair up my nose when I was asleep. You stole the candy I bought for my girlfriend…”
He reeled off memory after memory—secret things only the two of them would have known.
The wall around her heart cracked.
Her eyes blurred with tears. Her voice trembled.
“Big brother… It really is you!”
She threw her arms around him, sobbing uncontrollably.
“You’re finally home… I missed you so much…”
“I missed you too, Lauren.”
Roland stroked her hair gently, his nose tingling with emotion.
Eventually, she pulled back to study his face. A smile bloomed through her tears.
“You’ve grown taller. Stronger. Not the scrawny boy I remember.”
“And you’ve grown into a beautiful young lady.” Roland laughed. “If I didn’t toughen up, how could I ever protect you?”
“Still haven't changed, always teasing me,” she said, cheeks flushing pink. She wiped her tears. “Come in already.”
Stepping inside, Roland froze.
Everything… was the same. His childhood toys still sat on the coffee table.
The old family portrait hung on the wall, faded from time, but still radiating warmth. And beside it—his old certificate. First place in the eighth-grade javelin throw.
Roland stood still, staring.
He remembered that day. He’d run home, bursting with excitement, hoping his father would be proud.
His father had smiled at first… then read the certificate and tore it apart.
What’s the use of throwing a javelin? Worthless. You want to impress me? Get first place in the finals—that’s what counts.
He never knew how hard I trained, Roland thought. The hours I spent alone… all for that win.
That was the night he ran away.
Thinking back on those memories, Roland let out a small, knowing smile.
“The old man actually patched the certificate back together...”
“Yeah,” Lauren answered, wiping her tears. “He looks at it every day when he comes home, mumbling to himself. Sometimes, he even breaks down in tears.”
“Where’s he now?” Roland asked.
“At the clinic. Still working,” she replied.
His father had always been a doctor—ran a tiny clinic to make a living.
Roland nodded. “Still pushing himself at his age, huh? Always telling others to take care of their health but never taking care of his own.”
“He’s nearly sixty,” Lauren said, sighing. “Still refuses to take a day off.”
“Let him be. He’s got his pride. What about Mom?”
Roland unzipped his backpack and pulled out a small box.
“She used to get awful headaches. I remember her waking up in pain, crying… I brought her something from overseas. It’s guaranteed to help.”
Halfway through his sentence, he noticed Lauren’s expression had changed. Tears filled her eyes.
“Lauren, why are you crying…? Don't cry or you'd make me cry too.”
Roland sniffed. He tucked another wrapped package from his bag.
“Here, I bought this T-shirt for you. It's one of the best overseas… I wasn't sure what size you wore, but I knew you always had a thing for pink.”
He handed her the gift, but instead of brightening, her sobs worsened.
“What. Don't you like it? Hold on, I also bought tickets to a movie theatre.”
Lauren broke down completely.
Without a word, she grabbed his hand and led him out to the family garage.
Inside sat his father’s black jeep—aged, the windshield partly shattered, and the front end wrenched like a relic of some forgotten wreck.
Taped to the center of the windshield was a black-and-white memorial portrait of their mother.
“Mom passed away nine years ago,” Lauren choked out, then collapsed against the wall, sobbing.
Roland froze.
His breath caught, chest tightening like a vice. For a second, everything blurred, the scent of motor oil, the dim garage lights, the dust particles dancing in the beam of a single bulb overhead.
Then it hit him.
“No…” he whispered, voice cracking.
His legs buckled and he staggered back, slamming a fist against the rusted toolbox behind him. Tools clattered to the concrete floor with a harsh metallic clang.
“Goddamn it!” he shouted, voice raw.
He spun, kicked the side of the old jeep with a hollow thud, then collapsed against its battered frame. His hands trembled as he pressed them to his face, shoulders shaking uncontrollably.
“Mom…” he rasped. “I came back. I made it back…”
He reached for the box he’d been carrying and ripped it open, his fingers fumbling as he pulled out bottle after bottle. He lined them up on the hood of the jeep beneath the taped portrait, shaky hands, tears streaking down his face.
“I brought everything. The medicine you needed. I kept my promise, Mom…” His voice broke. “I promised you I’d become an outstanding doctor and cure your illness. You promised me... you promised you’d wait for that day…”
Tears blurred everything and he bowed his face on the steel, sobbing.
Seconds stretched into minutes, and then Lauren spoke through tears, her voice thick with emotion. “After you disappeared, they searched everywhere. Dad was relentless. And Mom… She hardly slept. The police thought you'd been trafficked. She never gave up hope, but the stress, the pain—it only got worse. Her headaches never stopped…”
Roland didn’t respond. He just lifted his face, staring at the pills, his expression hollow, as tears kept falling, quiet, unstoppable.
“She was gone within six months. Died in a car accident while Dad was rushing her to the hospital. He barely made it out alive, and ever since then, he’s refused to drive.”
As Lauren said this, her hands began to tremble. She covered her face and sobbed.
“I hated you so much back then! Why did you have to be so stubborn with Dad? Why did you run away? It’s your fault… you killed Mom!”
“But as I grew older, I learned what kidnapped children go through, how horrible their lives are. I started worrying about you. I was terrified you’d been forced to beg, or sent to dig in mines... I was so scared!”
Lauren stepped forward, her voice cracking as she choked back a sob. Then, without hesitation, she threw her arms around him.
“I finally lived to see you come home…” she whispered against his shoulder. “Before she died, Mom was so scared you’d been taken, that you'd end up crippled or begging on the streets somewhere. If she knew you were okay, she’d be… so proud.”
Roland stiffened at first, but then something inside him broke loose.
He pulled her close, burying his face into her shoulder as the tears came in loud, broken sobs that echoed through the silence.
He was finally home… but far too late to save the one who’d waited the most.
- Writer
