An orphan in the deep forest saved a tied man, not knowing who he really was

Pick things up fast. Eyes like your mom’s—sharp, notice everything.” Emily gave a faint smile, first that evening. A car’s sound interrupted.

Peter peeked out. “Deputy’s here. Not alone. Some official.”

Soon a woman in uniform entered—stocky, short-haired, alert-eyed. A man in plain clothes followed, weary but keen. “Linda Carter, deputy,” the woman introduced.

“This is Paul Mitchell, investigator from the county seat. You James Carter?” James stood. “Yes, that’s me.”

“You’ve been missing a week. Your deputy, Michael Reed, reported it. Said you didn’t return from a meeting.” James gave a bitter smile.

“Interesting. Considering his men tied me to a tree and left me to die.” Linda exchanged looks with Paul.

“Serious charge.” “Proof?” James spread his hands.

“Only my word.” “And rope marks on my wrists.” Paul nodded…

“We’ll investigate.” “And the girl?” He eyed Emily, who shrank into her chair. “She saved my life,” James replied, shielding her.

“Her name’s Emily. I want to help her.” Linda sat by Emily. “Hi, Emily.

Don’t be scared. We just want to help.” Emily watched warily. “What now?” she asked softly.

“First, we’ll find your relatives. Mom, dad, anyone?” “Mom left,” Emily repeated. “Long ago.

No one else.” Linda sighed. “Got it.

We’ll contact child services. They’ll find a temporary home while we search for your mom or kin.” Emily flinched, glancing at James.

“I want her with me for now,” he said firmly. “I can provide—housing, food, education.” Paul shook his head. “Impossible without court approval.

There are laws, procedures.” “I get it,” James nodded. “I’ll follow all procedures.

But can’t we…” “Make an exception? She trusts me. We’ve been through a lot.”

Linda considered. “Theoretically, temporary custody. But needs child services’ consent, references, checks.”

“I’ll do it all,” James interrupted. “Any papers, any checks. Just don’t send her to a home now.”

Paul and Linda exchanged glances. Then Linda sighed. “Fine.

I can arrange temporary custody for a week. You must file official documents with child services then. And we’ll verify your reliability.”

James nodded. “Thank you. I won’t let you down.”

He looked at Emily. No smile, but hope flickered in her eyes. “Now,” Paul said, pulling out a notepad, “I need your statements.

Detailed. From the start.” The next few hours passed in talks.

James detailed his kidnapping, forest days, meeting Emily. She sat close, occasionally adding brief notes, mostly silent, observing adults warily. Late evening, Linda offered a ride to the county seat.

“There’s a motel. You can rest.” Susan protested.

“What motel at night? Stay here. Room enough, I’ll make beds.”

After debate, they agreed to stay, with Linda driving them to the county seat next morning. When all left, Emily and James stayed in a small room where Susan prepared a sofa and cot. “You okay?” James asked softly, seeing Emily sit on the sofa’s edge, clutching her satchel.

“Don’t know,” she answered honestly. “Here… Weird. Lots of people. Lots of questions.”

“Tired?” She nodded. “Tomorrow will be easier,” he promised. “We’ll go to the city, I’ll call my people.

Sort this out.” “Then?” she asked, eyeing him intently. “What then?”

James sat beside her. “Then… we’ll find you a good home. School.

You’ll learn, grow.” “With you?” she cut in, hope and fear in her voice. “If you want,” he said gently. “And if the law allows.

I’ll do everything, Emily. Promise.” She studied him, searching for deceit.

Then nodded, lying down, satchel under her head as usual. “Good night, James,” she whispered. “Good night, kid,” he replied, covering her with a blanket.

Morning came early. Before dawn, Susan stoked the stove and made breakfast. Emily woke to pancake smells, sitting on the sofa, watching Susan bustle.

“Sleep well, dear?” Susan asked, noticing her awake. “Yes,” Emily nodded. “Haven’t slept so well in ages.”

“Good. After such adventures. Go wash up, breakfast’s soon.”

Emily obeyed. The bathroom—running water, mirror, colorful shampoo bottles—was new to her. She stared at her reflection—thin face, unevenly cut hair, serious eyes.

Back in the kitchen, James was there, freshly shaved—Peter lent a razor—in a too-big shirt. “Morning,” he smiled. “Sleep okay?” “Good,” Emily replied, sitting. “You?” “Great.

First real bed in days.” Susan served pancakes with cream and honey. “Eat, build strength.

Long day ahead.” They ate quietly, savoring home-cooked food. Emily took small bites, clearly enjoying.

After, Linda arrived in her patrol car. “Ready?” she asked at the door. “Time to go.

County seat’s waiting.” They bid farewell to the hosts. Susan hugged Emily, wiping a tear.

“Take care, dear. Visit if you’re around.” Emily awkwardly hugged back, unaccustomed to affection.

The drive took an hour. Emily watched out the window, studying this new world—paved roads, signs, cars. James sat beside, occasionally checking on her.

The county seat was a small town with one- and two-story buildings, a central square, and town hall. “Police and child services here,” Linda explained.

“Need to file papers.” Inside was cool, smelling of paper. Emily stayed close to James, eyeing the surroundings warily.

The office they entered was cramped, stacked with files. A middle-aged woman with a tired but keen gaze sat at the desk. “Irene Thompson, child services head,” Linda introduced.

“Irene, this is James Carter and Emily, as I mentioned.” Irene studied them. “Sit,” she said, gesturing to chairs.

“Unusual case, but we’ll handle it.” She pulled out forms and a pen. “Emily. Full name.”

Emily glanced at James for support. “Emily Robert Johnson,” she said softly. “Birthdate?” “October 15.

I’m 9.” “Parents?” Emily dropped her gaze. “Mom, Thompson Sarah Johnson.

Dad unknown.” Irene noted it. “Where’s your mom now?” “Don’t know…