Dad, Im hungry and I want to go outside! the little voice of Molly squealed again, tugging at her fathers sleeve as she waddled into the kitchen.
Andrew was midway through finishing a pint of bitter and slamming away at a firstperson shooter on his laptop. A crucial match was on the line, and Mollys persistent chirps grated on his nerves. Hed had enough. The anger in him boiled hotter each time she clutched his arm, eyes pleading for his attention. How old was shefive? She should be able to make a bowl of porridge herself. While he roamed the backstreet garages with his mates, his daughter seemed a helpless wisp.
The distraction cost him the round; he lost. Fury clouded his vision. He sprang from his chair, snatched a stale slice of bread, and hurled it at Molly.
Take it and chew it, cant you even reach for yourself? he barked.
He poured a glass of milk from the fridge, set it on the table, and, when Molly reminded him that mum always warmed the milk, snapped, Im not mum, and youve known that for ages. He slumped back to the computer, hoping a full stomach would quiet her incessant pleas. It didnt. After a quick trip to the loo, he returned, but didnt even make it to his favourite armchair.
Dad, I want to go for a walk. Mum and I always walk together! Molly pouted, her lips trembling.
Want a walk? Fine, go! Andrew shouted, seeing a perfect excuse to be left alone. He rummaged through her wardrobe, pulling out a warm pair of trousers, a sweater, mittens and a coat with a matching hat. Hurriedly dressing her, he thrust her out the back door and told her to stay out until he called her back.
Back at the desk, he slipped on headphones, cranked up his favorite tracks, cracked open a fresh can of fizzy drink and resumed blasting enemies on screen, relishing the silence that now surrounded him.
Molly shivered. She remembered her mother always dressing her in extra layers for winter walks. The sun was gone; dusk had settled, and her mother never sent her out at this hour. She missed Sarah, her mother, like a wound. The cold made her lips quiver; she tried the door, but Andrew had locked it. Desperate for warmth, she started to run, but the snowuntouched for daysclogged her feet. She attempted a snowman, but the powder refused to stick, more like sand than snow. She even considered asking her father whether the snow was just cold sand. She knocked desperately on the house, but no one answered. Panic rose. She began to weep, calling for dad, his voice never answering.
Wrapping her arms around herself, she stared at the halfopened gate and, with a shaky step, walked toward any shelter that might warm her chilled toes. She thought of neighbour Aunt Lucy, who often offered milk, but Lucys house was dark. She knocked, received no replyperhaps Lucy wasnt home. The village lay behind her; her little cottage sat on the outskirts, and the wind howled louder as the night deepened. A sudden blizzard swallowed the world; visibility vanished. Molly sprinted, gulping icy air, calling out for her father, while the memory of Andrews cruel shout, Leave me alone, Im not your mum! replayed in her mind.
She tried to shield herself from the gale, but the wind knocked her to her knees. The freezing snow bit her skin, and the whistling wind slipped under her coat.
It wasnt until just after two in the morning that Andrew finally remembered his daughter. He had been jolted awake by a loud bang at the window while hurrying to the bathroom. Branches of a frosted lilac tree scraped the glass, rattling in the wind.
The proper English storm, he muttered, then the thought of his little girl froze his blood.
He bolted outside, shouting Mollys name, but she was nowhere. A cold dread settled in his chestshe could be out there, dying in the white abyss. He waved his arms wildly, cursing the night. He told himself she must have wandered to a neighbours house.
He slipped back inside, shivering, and assumed Aunt Lucy would have taken Molly in. Seeing a light flickering in Lucys window, he convinced himself everything was fine. He answered his wife Sarahs text with a cold, Were asleep, alls well, even though their marriage had grown as thin as the ice on the pond. Sarah, now more a ghost of her late mother, nagged him to get a job and quit his gaming. He dreamed of becoming a professional gamer, of earning big money from tournaments, while she chided him for his laziness.
Exhausted, Andrew collapsed onto the bed and fell into a heavy snore, leaving the front door unlocked just in case. At dawn, he was woken by the shrill voice of Daisy, his wifes sister.
Have you lost your mind? Wheres Molly? she screamed, her eyes blazing.
Enough! Im not home Andrew tried to brush her off, but she lunged, grabbed his wrist and shoved him to the floor.
Youll regret this, youll hear from me! he snarled, rubbing his bruised hand. Daisy, a former karate champion, wasnt one to be frightened by empty threats. She paced, her breath sharp.
Wheres the child? Who took my niece? I came for Molly! she demanded.
Andrew stammered, She went for a walk yesterday maybe to Aunt Lucys on Ninth. He concealed the truth that he had literally thrown his daughter out.
Daisy, trembling, ran to Lucys cottage, pounding on the door. Lucy shook her head, pale, and said she hadnt seen any child. The village, cloaked in snow, was silent; every door stayed shut. Daisy returned, fists clenched, and dragged Andrew back to the kitchen where he was still hunched over his game. She hammered him with her fists, tears streaming.
Where the hell is my niece? Did you leave her out in that storm? she sobbed.
Andrew tried to calm her, Shell be fine, shell come back. Daisy, fearing the impact on her sister Oliviawho was awaiting heart surgerykept the news from her, fearing it would be a fatal shock.
Police and rescue teams arrived quickly, cuffing Andrew as they led him away. Leaving a child alone in a blizzard is child neglect, youll be charged, the officer said coldly, disgusted by the neglect.
Daisy wept uncontrollably, haunted by the thought of a tiny hand in the snow. The rescue crews uncovered a lone pair of mittens in the driftsMollys. The sight broke her; she had given those mittens to her niece on a business trip. The investigator entered, These mittens belong to the missing child?
Daisy could barely breathe. She sank against the wardrobe, clutching the tiny fabric as memories of Mollys last hug flooded backher sisters pleading eyes, I love you so much, and now the void.
The search stretched through the night with no result. By morning, a call came from the county hospital: a fiveyearold girl had been admitted, frostbitten and with possible pneumonia. Daisy rushed there, heart pounding. In the ward, a frail Molly lay under a thin blanket, a young doctor named Dr. Samuel leaning over her.
Is she yours? he asked gently.
My niece, Daisy whispered, struggling to stand.
The girl is strong; shell pull through, Dr. Samuel assured.
Daisy sat beside Molly, took her tiny hand, and sobbed with relief. The doctor explained that Molly suffered partial frostbite and a looming lung infection, but treatment was underway.
Later, a paramedic named Tom recounted how his dog, Charlie, had found Molly tangled in a snowdrift, dragging her toward the road. Tom had sprinted to the nearest house, found Andrew still at his computer, and pulled the child to safety. Without Charlies bark, Molly might never have been found.
Thank you, Charlie, Daisy breathed, tears still streaming. You saved her.
Tom invited Daisy for a cup of tea in the staff room. She accepted, exhausted, having not slept or eaten for days. She wondered how to tell Olivia the truth without shattering her already fragile health. The thought of her sisters heart surgery made her stomach churn.
Olivia, after being discharged, arrived at the hospital with a tentative smile. No operation needed, the treatment is working. Im coming home soon, she said, then glanced anxiously, Wheres Molly? Did you leave her with Andrew?
Daisy lowered her head, the story spilling out in a rush, tears erasing the words as she spoke. Olivias face fell; she could not believe Andrew could be so cruel. She vowed to divorce him as soon as paperwork allowed.
Meanwhile, Andrew sat in a cell, his face a mask of indifference. He never showed remorse, content that his gaming could continue once released. Hed sold everything he owned, drifting into bitterness, and when he finally fell ill with a spinal injury, he tried to beg Olivia for forgiveness, but she never answered.
Months later, Daisy and Tom grew close, their bond forged in tragedy. Charlie became a permanent resident of Daisys flat, always waiting for a treat. Molly, now recovering, adored the dog, asking for extra bones and biscuits. Olivia moved into Daisys flat, free from the burden of a deadbeat husband. Andrew received a short custodial sentence; his life unraveled as he realized there was no one left to blame but himself.
The winters chill had taken a life, broken a family, but it also sparked new beginnings. The village, once cloaked in silence, now whispered of redemption, of a little girls survival, and of the day a stray dog named Charlie became a hero.
