Escape from Mr. Whitman (Emma and Theodore) novel Chapter 287

Theodore stood awkwardly off to the side, wanting to help but never finding the right moment. He didn’t even know who the man beside Emma was or where he’d come from. How could they be so in sync? Emma had spent five years with him, carefully shielded from the world, and yet after only a month apart, she already had someone else she trusted this much?

Emma’s attention was entirely on her grandmother. She didn’t even notice Theodore lingering there, let alone guess at the storm of thoughts swirling in his mind. Once Larson finished settling her grandmother in, Emma took a seat by the hospital bed, gently stroking the old woman’s gaunt, misshapen face. Tears welled up and spilled down her cheeks, uncontrollable and heavy.

“Em…”

Theodore wanted to go to her, to hold her and offer comfort, but before he could even call her name, Larson was already at Emma’s side. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and wiped away her tears. “Emmie, it’s over now. You’re safe.”

Emma shook her head, her heart aching. “She’s been through so much, Larson. It’s not fair…”

“I know,” he murmured, his voice thick with sympathy. “It hurts me too. But look—she made it through. She’s here with us. We’ll do everything we can to help her recover. Once she’s out of here, we’ll make sure she’s never hurt again.”

Emma nodded, sniffling quietly. “I know, I do. I just... I can’t help feeling so sad.”

Larson crouched down to meet her eyes. “I’m guessing you’re not going to let anyone talk you into resting right now, are you?”

She shook her head again, more fiercely this time. No one could convince her to leave—not even for a minute.

“Then you’ve got to take care of yourself, Emmie,” he said softly. “Eat something, get a little rest when you can. Otherwise—”

“I know,” Emma interrupted, frowning. “Grandma could wake up at any moment. I promise I won’t cry anymore. I’ll eat, too. I don’t want her to see me looking like a wreck.”

Larson chuckled. “What, am I being a pain already?”

“No,” Emma whispered, “it’s just... I feel like a little kid, that’s all.”

She hated burdening Larson. He always found new ways to coax her into caring for herself, and though she’d finally let herself lean on him, at her core, she was still determined to handle things on her own.

Larson’s expression softened, guilt and tenderness flickering in his eyes. He blamed himself for not understanding what his family back home had gone through. If he’d known what kind of monsters were around, he would have gotten them out of there long ago.

“Find a lawyer and ask them: can Julian and his family go to jail for this? Is there a case for abuse?” Larson asked. He wasn’t familiar with the finer points of local law.

Latham laughed dryly. “He’s claiming we’re responsible.”

“What?” Larson couldn’t help but grin.

“He says we injured him and demands compensation.”

Larson let out a short laugh. “Is that so? Fine, we’ll pay his medical bills. We’ll make sure he’s treated. And once he’s healed, we’ll beat the crap out of him again—and pay for him to recover after that, too. No need to send him to prison. Prison’s too good for him. Let’s just keep this going: treat, beat, treat, beat, over and over, forever…”

Latham chuckled on the other end. “And what about the woman?”

Larson’s eyes narrowed slightly. That was the answer Emma had been looking for: how he’d found her grandmother’s location…