“Leah? …Leah, is that you?”
The dam broke. The tears I’d been holding back exploded.
“Yes,” I sobbed.
“Mom left me. At the airport. She went to Hawaii and told me to find my own way home. I don’t know what to do…”
What happened next felt like the world tilting on its axis. The voice on the phone didn’t panic. It didn’t yell. It became a focused, sharp, powerful blade.
“Where are you? What’s your exact location? Which airport?” I told him.
“Denver. Gate 14. Now I’m in an office.”
“Leah, listen to me. You are safe. Nothing bad is going to happen to you. I’m coming. Put the woman you’re with back on the phone.”
Mrs. VGA took the receiver, her face pale. She was no longer talking to a deadbeat dad. She was talking to… someone else.
“Yes, sir. This is Agent VGA with Family Services… Yes, she’s safe. She’s right here… A private jet? You’re… in Wyoming? Understood, sir. One hour. Yes. We will have her ready. We’ll wait with her right here.”
She hung up the phone and stared at me. The pity was gone. It was replaced by something that looked like… awe.
“Leah,” she said, her voice unsteady.
“Your father… he’s on his way. He’s diverting his jet. He’ll be here in an hour.”
Part 2
He was here in fifty-three minutes. I’d never seen him in person. Not really. Just in a single, faded photograph my mom kept in a “bad memories” box.
