"I'm no professional," Sara muttered, scratching the top of her head, eyes narrowing, "but I'm pretty sure a kid shouldn't be out this late."
She was still mid-thought when, without her noticing, the girl crawled out of the bush—still wearing that tiny heavy tiara, gripping her glittery wand like it actually worked. Blue was struggling with the branches tangled in her dress, and it was only when Sara heard the rustling that she turned around. The sight hit her like a slap.
That worked?
She'd just lured a child out of hiding… with a fake phone call and a cake.
Sara rushed over, carefully helping her out. Her hands trembled slightly as she freed the girl's sleeves from the snags. It unsettled her—deeply—how easy it had been.
"Gosh," she whispered under her breath, eyes flicking sideways, "you know you really shouldn't listen to strangers like that."
Blue didn't reply right away. Her face scrunched into this absurdly thoughtful little frown, like she was debating an investment portfolio. The way she hesitated, how readable her expression was—Sara couldn't help but stare.
"I mean… other strangers," Sara added, trying to save it. "Except me. I'm Officer Jellybean's… uh… special agent Gummyworm. So you can trust me, no?"
Blue blinked slowly, studying her. That stare—it was too serious, too knowing for a child her age. But after what felt like careful inner deliberation, Blue reached out and grabbed her hand.
Sara exhaled. With a small tug, she helped the girl out fully—though a few stubborn leaves still clung to her dress and got tangled in her curls.
"There! You're out," Sara announced softly, brushing off the fabric.
She dropped to her knees to match Blue's height, her fingers gently plucking the leaves from her hair. The closer she got to that tiny, serious face, the stranger she felt. Warm. Fuzzy. Off-kilter.
Something turned in her stomach—a strange heat pooling inside her chest.
Must be the alcohol, she thought, quickly brushing the feeling away.
Then Blue looked up, catching her off guard.
"Who told you about my birthday?"
Sara blinked. For a second, she forgot the lie.
"We have a… special department," she said slowly. "Back where I work. They keep track of every child's birthday."
Yup. That was a lie. A bold, barefaced one.
Quickly, she picked up the jacket that had fallen to the ground and tried draping it over Blue's shoulders, but it was far too big for her. The child pursed her lips in mild disapproval. After a few moments of consideration, Sara took off her own cardigan and gently wrapped it around Blue instead.
"Why are you out here alone at night when it's your birthday?" Sara asked, carefully guiding Blue's small hands through the sleeves. She raiased her hands without a struggle or putitgn up a fight.
"I'm lost," Blue said simply.
Sara stiffened. "Lost?" Her voice came out sharper than intended. "Where did you last see your parents?"
"I don't know," Blue mumbled, then abruptly tilted her head. "When are we cutting the cake?"
Sara blinked, caught off guard. The faint traces of dried tears in the corners of Blue's eyes suggested she had been crying earlier, but somehow, the sadness didn't dampen her excitement about the cake.
"Right now!" Sara said quickly, standing up. She held out her arms, expecting Blue to run into them so she could lift her up—just like she had seen parents in her neighborhood do with their kids. But Blue only stared at her.
The empty feeling in Sara's arms lingered, but she didn't push it. Instead, she said, "Let's put some candles on, okay?"
"Is it true that if you wish upon candles, your wish comes true?" Blue asked, her big eyes filled with curiosity.
"Of course, it's true!" Sara said enthusiastically.
She picked up the candles and unboxed the cake, peeling back the cover to reveal its towering layers. Blue's eyes widened in delight as the cake was revealed.
"Do you like it?" Sara asked.
Blue nodded eagerly. "Does it have my name on it?"
Sara stiffened again, biting her lip. Oh no... my lie is about to be exposed.
"I... I didn't write your name on it because I don't know your name," she admitted, turning to look at the little girl. "I'm sorry."
Blue simply waved a tiny hand. "That's fine. The cake is pretty. But... it's kind of small. Last year i had had a cake this tall." She pointed at the street lamp behind them.
Sara nearly choked on air. Small?! This is the biggest cake I've ever seen!
She stared at the child in disbelief, but Blue was already staring at the cake with dreamy excitement, completely unaware of how much she had just stunned Sara into silence.
"You can write my name on the cake next time, okay?" Blue said, as if making a firm request. "It's Blue. B-L-U-E, Blue."
"Blue? That's such a pretty name!" Sara clapped her hands in delight. "It suits you so much!"
She placed the candle on the cake and gently lifted Blue onto the bench so she could blow it out. "Okay, now make a wish, and it will come true!" she said with excitement.
Blue stared at the cake, the flickering light casting a soft glow on her face. Then, without hesitation, she extended her wand toward Sara. "Hold this for me," she said.
Sara took the wand, watching as Blue pressed her hands together, closed her eyes, and whispered her wish.
"I wish that before my next birthday, I get a mom like Tom's, who loves him sooo much, and a dad like Sally's, who always smiles after she hug him."
Sara froze.
"What?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Blue opened her eyes, looking at Sara expectantly. "I want my Mama and Dada to love me. Is that not okay?" Her small shoulders slumped, and the hope in her eyes dimmed. "They always fight and never hug me."
Sara's eyebrows continued to crease. She had no idea what to say. How could parents not love their own child? She had never thought that was possible.
"Blue..." she murmured.
"Will it not come true?" Blue asked, disappointment creeping into her voice.
Sara sucked in a breath, unsure if she had any right to say anything in this situation. But looking at this tiny girl, so full of innocence yet carrying such a heartbreaking wish, she couldn't help herself.
"It will definitely come true," Sara promised softly. "Your parents love you already, I'm sure of it."
"They don't!" Blue shouted, suddenly jumping off the bench without blowing out the candle. She stomped away, cheeks puffed in frustration, arms crossed tightly. "They don't like me! I know that!"
Sara remained frozen, watching the small, angry figure before her.
Goddamn it! She's mad again! How do you even deal with kids? If only I knew...' And then it hit her.
"Blue!" Sara called out instinctively.
Before the little girl could turn around, Sara wrapped her arms around her from behind, tickling her small tummy. A burst of laughter escaped Blue's lips—pure, blissful, like a melody only a child could create.
"Hahaha!" Blue giggled, squirming in her embrace.
Sara smiled. So what if her dad doesn't hug her? "Well then, if your dad won't hug you, I will," she declared, loosening her grip just enough to spin Blue around and meet her eyes. "Can I?"
Blue blinked at her, as if uncertain. "You'll really hug me? For real?"
Sara nodded. "Of course! Did you know that four hugs a day are necessary for proper growth?" She grinned, pulling Blue into a tight embrace, swaying her gently from side to side, even lifting her off her feet slightly. "Gosh, you are so cute! I can't believe I ever said I hated kids."
Blue wrapped her small arms around Sara's back, her little fingers pressing against the fabric of her cardigan. "I like hugs," she whispered, rubbing her nose against Sara's affectionately.
"Please hug me four times a day so I can grow faster," she murmured sleepily.
Sara's heart clenched. Poor child... She held her even closer, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. The hug lingered, stretching into a quiet moment of comfort, until Sara realized that Blue had drifted off, her breathing soft and even.
Letting out a deep sigh, Sara carefully adjusted her hold on the sleeping child, cradling her against her chest as she sat down on the bench. Gently, she draped the extra jacket over Blue's small frame, keeping her snug.
Blue let out a tiny, contented snore, and despite the cool night air, Sara felt warm. She glanced down at the child in her arms. 'I kind of don't want to leave her." she pursed her lips but that was not possible.
Then, pulling out her phone, she dialed the local police station.
"Hello? Greenwood Police Department, what's your emergency?" came a robotic voice on the other end.
Sara exhaled sharply. "I need to report a missing child. I found her near--" she looked around for street signs and then added. " Elmwood Park, right on XX Street," she said, placing a hand on her hip.
"Understood, ma'am. Can you please provide your name while we dispatch a unit to your location?" the operator asked.
"It is Sara Parker," she said.
"Okay, Miss Sara, thank you for helping. The dispatch will be with you in a moment," the operator replied.
Sara set her phone aside and wrapped her arms around Blue once more, feeling the child's gentle breaths against her shoulder. Her gaze drifted toward the cake sitting on the bench beside them—the candle, nearly burned down, flickered weakly in the night air.
With a quiet sigh, she leaned forward. "Please," she whispered, her voice barely above the wind, "let her have the parents she wants before her next birthday."
And with that, she blew out the candle in her stead.