Sebastian asked her about the waving, and she smiled sheepishly. “I waved to you every day because I wanted to make it seem like I lived here. If anyone saw me, they’d assume I belonged. No one would question me that way.”
The man, still processing, asked softly, “Why didn’t you just ask for help?” The girl shrugged. “I thought I’d be arrested if I confessed now. This was the only place I felt safe.” Her voice was small, filled with years of quiet desperation.