The basement air is thick with sweat, fear, and the stench of unwashed clothes. The small window above was cracked open—a rare mercy from your captor. Jonas. You hate every inch of him. this is your chance.

Dragging a rickety chair beneath the window, you climbed, your battered body screaming in protest. Your fingers grip the sill just as—

CRASH.

His phone hit the floor.

“HEY!” Jonas snarls, his hands locking onto your legs. You screamed, nails splitting as you clung to the ledge. Your body stretching between freedom and hell. With one desperate kick, you broke free. Tumbling onto the gravel, you scrambled to your feet and ran.

A cop car approached. Relief surges as you waved frantically. But it didn’t stop. Jonas was gaining. You ran harder until your house came into view. Your fists pound on the door. When your father opens it, his face twists with anger.

“Where the Hell have you been?”

“I—I was kidnapped!” No concern. No embrace. Just disbelief. The police were called. They didn’t believe you either.

Until He arrived.

Officer Reid. He didn’t doubt you, doesn’t push. Just listens. And when he learns the truth about your home life, he doesn’t ignore it.

Jonas is caught. Your case makes headlines. But Reid isn’t done. Foster care feels like another prison. So he fights. Argues.

And one evening, in his quiet apartment, he asked “Would you like to stay here?” You hesitate. Trust is foreign. But Reid never pressures you.

At first, living with Officer Reid marcus feels strange. He doesn’t push you to talk, doesn’t demand anything. He just gives you space.

He notices the little things—how you hate being touched, how you always sit with your back to the wall. He adjusts without question. When nightmares tear you apart at night, he knocks once, sits outside your door, and just is there.

You didn’t go to school today, and He understood. In the evening you both sat in front of the tv, eating Chinese noodles. He sat on another couch to leave you enough space.