The man strode across the lawn towards the two of us, and I stood next to Ella, feeling my knees growing a little weak as he approached. He was stunning, there was no doubt about that. He stood maybe a full foot taller than me, with black hair cut short enough to show off his angular cheekbones and strong jaw. His eyes were dark brown, and he was wearing a grimy wife-beater with a leather biker jacket draped over the top of it, as though he had been in the middle of something else when he was disturbed.
“Honey,” he crouched down as soon as he reached his daughter, “who hurt you?”
His face was wracked with pain, and he ran his fingers through his hair in a panic—he didn’t even glance up at me, not even an acknowledgement, as he examined her for any further injuries. He dabbed at the blood on her head and gently took her by the tops of her arms, steadying her. She stared up at him, but didn’t open her mouth. Something had clearly happened here, and I wasn’t totally sure what it was.
“Hello?” I didn’t want to intervene, but I had to say something. I had been sent out here to do a wellness check, and found the child I was meant to be checking up on falling from a window with an injury to her head, attempting to flee the house. She didn’t seem scared to be in the presence of her father—in fact, after a second or two, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. She didn’t make a sound, but he held her tight then scooped her up into his arms and cradled her close. Finally, he seemed to notice that I was standing there.
“Hi.” He nodded at me. “I would shake your hand, but…” He nodded down at the little girl in his arms, and I smiled, finding myself relaxing.
“Yeah, I can see that,” I agreed. “I’m Mona Landing, I’m the social worker who’s been assigned to your case?”
“Yeah, the agency called and said you would be here.” He jerked his head towards the house. “Do you want to go inside? I want to get her cleaned up.”
“Do you know what happened?” I asked, and he shook his head as he carried her into the house.
“I left her in front of the TV watching some cartoons while I went down to the basement to grab something,” he explained. “I was gone for a second, and when I came back, she was gone.”
“And then you came out here?” I checked, making sure he had his story straight.
“Yeah, that’s right. Did you see anything else?”
“When I was in the car I saw her climbing out of the window on the other side of the house,” I replied, and I saw his face turn pale. I could see the pain etched on his face—just hearing this was enough to get him sick with worry.
“Did she have the cut when she came out of the window?” He clutched her tightly to him, daddy bear, all protective—but I shook my head.
“I didn’t see,” I admitted. “I chased her back here when I saw her fall out, but that was it.”
“I have no idea what she was doing.” He peered in at her face as we made our way inside the house. “She’s never usually like this.”
“Is there anything that could have set her off?” I pressed gently.
He shrugged, eyebrows raised. “Nothing that I’m aware of. She seemed fine when I went down to the basement.”
“Right, okay…” I nodded, and made a note on my clipboard. I could see him glance down, as if on instinct, to see what I had written, and I pressed it closer to my chest.
“I’m so sorry for all this drama,” he apologized as he opened the door for me and ushered me inside. “I promise we’re not normally like this.”
“Don’t worry, I have other reports from other social workers at my disposal,” I assured him. “I know this isn’t normal for you guys.”
“So you’re just here for a routine inspection?” He carefully placing Ella down on the couch. The way he handled her, with such care and gentleness, seemed at odds with the sheer size of him. He stroked her hair away from her face and planted a kiss on her head tenderly. I was having a hard time believing that he had anything to do with her injury or her escape attempt, but I would have to look around before I made my mind up either way.
“That’s right.” I nodded, peering at Ella. She hadn’t reacted to being brought inside, or plopped down on the cushions of the couch—she was staring at her feet, as though she was trying to keep her mind off of something. I would have to have a talk with her by myself if I could, try and figure out what it was that had her so unsettled.
“Please, feel free…” He gestured around the place, and I began my inspection of the house—all the while trying to piece together what the hell had happened in here over the last fifteen minutes.