“You must be thirsty and hungry,” the nurse coaxes, and I want so badly to trust her, but I’ve heard those words before. “Do you want something different, honey? I can get you soda, or water, or apple juice. I have crackers, or I can get you a bowl of chicken soup?”

I want every single thing she listed.

Instead, I shake my head defiantly. No, I’m not willing to trade today. I can still stand. I can still lift my head. I can still see clearly. I am not yet sick or weak enough to give into trading.

Disappointment and concern shadow her face. “You can talk to me. You’re safe now. The doctor will be in soon, and she’s going to have a nice talk with you and the police officer, so we can find your family and get you home.”

My heart jumps to my throat, and air rushes up my lungs. Home? I can go home? Mommy and Daddy will finally come get me?

He told me I’d never see my family again and I’d never be going home again. Not ever. He said they didn’t want me anymore and had replaced me with a new little girl who was better than me. Is it possible they’re really coming for me?

My head falls back onto the pillows, my eyelids growing heavy. I remember beds and pillows now, how soft and warm they are. I don’t ever want to lift my head from this softness again.

Clutching my backpack close to me, I let the wave of exhaustion take hold of me so I can dream of my prince with his bright blue eyes. I always knew he would come save me.

Strangers wake me up and smile unfamiliar smiles at me as they talk and whisper among themselves in the corner of the room and in the hallway outside my door. I have no idea how long I’ve been here, or how long I’ve been asleep. There’s a clock on the wall, but I forgot how to tell time a long time ago. The sun shining through the blinds is startling, and I want to go to the window and stare outside. I want to feel the warmth on my face.

I don’t know who these people in my room are, but they’re wearing uniforms so they must be important.

“Where is Poppy?” I finally ask, to no one in particular.

“Who is Poppy?” the nearest woman asks, taking a step closer. The others turn, waiting for my reply.

No one has talked back to me in so long that I’m surprised whenever these new people respond to me. I’m used to watching people talk on television, and sometimes I talked to them, but they never actually talked back or asked me questions.

“My friend,” I answer.

She smiles encouragingly. “Was someone else being held with you in the woods?”

“Yes, Poppy.”

“Is Poppy a boy or a girl?”

“A boy.”

“What happened to Poppy?”

“Poppy ran away. We have to find him. The bad man might get him and hurt him.” Fear, confusion, and sadness wash over me in a wave. Poppy and I need each other. He must be just as scared as I am right now.

The woman steps closer to the bed and holds up a photograph. “Is this the bad man?” she asks, her voice low, almost soothing. “Or is this Poppy?”

I shake my head, my eyes locked onto the photo. “No. That’s the prince. He came to save us.”

She nods slowly. “I see. Can you tell me your name?”

I stare back at her, only wanting to take the picture from her so I can keep it. I have been asked my name so many times but…“Hollipop,” I whisper.

The woman smiles again, nodding vigorously. “Yes, that’s very good. It’s Holly,” she says. “Holly Daniels.”

Her words make my breath catch, and those two words repeat over and over like an echo: HollyDanielsHollyDanielsHollyDanielsHollyDaniels…

I pull my backpack closer and lift it onto my lap. On the back, across the top, are faint letters written in black magic marker. Mommy wrote them so I would know it was mine.

The woman leans closer, following my finger as I run it slowly over the faded letters, which are just barely visible. “This is you,” she says softly. “You’re Holly Daniels. You were kidnapped when you were eight years old. Do you remember, Holly?”

Yes. I remember the bad man pulling up to my friend, Sammi, and me on the sidewalk while we were walking home from school. He grabbed my arm so hard I screamed. My friend screamed too, and I watched her run away. I watched her leave me alone. I remember being yanked into the backseat of a dark car and a big hand being held over my mouth. I remember the taste of blood when I bit him.

“You’ve been gone for ten years, Holly,” she tells me very gently. “You’re safe now, and your family is on their way here right now.”