Free STOLEN by DAWN KOPMAN WHIDDEN Page A

loose,
so Marty gently grabbed him and pulled him away. Marty stooped down so he was
on his knees and was able to make eye contact with Tristan, trying hard not to
appear threatening. It was something he had learned observing Hope with her
patients.
    “Hey, kid, this man is very sick. We can’t bother him.” He
looked at Marty, his expression so intense and hurt as if Marty had slapped
him. His eyes drifted back to the man lying in the bed, glaring at him as if he
was willing him to wake up. Marty couldn’t tell if the boy was trying to wake
up the man because he was angry with him or because he needed him. He couldn’t
understand why he had this feeling that Tristan was worried about the man that
had kidnapped him and possibly performed and exposed him to “Dirty” things. But
that wasn’t Marty’s field of expertise, it was Hope’s, and by the look on her
face, Marty got the impression that she was as clueless as he was.
    Marty grabbed Tristan’s hand, the little boy’s fingers were
sweaty and curled up into his palm in a loose fist and as Marty got up from his
kneeling position he felt and heard his right knee crack. Marty thought the kid
thought he farted, because he crinkled up his nose, as if he had been exposed
to a rank scent, and once again broke out in that infectious giggle. It was
that giggle that made Marty think that everything was going to be all right. He
no longer was aware of the beeping of the machines, or the sucking sounds of
the respirator, and suddenly his worries about his father had faded from his
mind and for a brief moment all that was wrong in the world was swallowed up in
the little boy’s laughter.
    With his attention momentarily diverted from the man in the
bed, Marty walked him out, but that didn’t stop Tristan from taking a long last
look. Taking a cue from him, Marty walked him past his own father’s room and
took a quick look. Marty’s sister was on the phone in the corner and he nodded
to her. Satisfied that his dad was sleeping and comfortable, he kept on walking
towards the elevator at the end of the floor with the child until he could turn
him over to the social worker.
    It took a bit of cohering and cajoling, because Tristan kept
on grabbing his hand and insisting he wasn’t leaving without him. Marty finally
convinced him he would be fine and he would see him tomorrow. The little boy
finally, but reluctantly, left the hospital with Sophie Harris from social
services. She informed Hope and Marty she was able to find a temporary home for
him and although Marty was skeptical, he had known the woman for years and trusted
her to take care of the boy. Before they left, he made Sophie give him the
address and phone number of the family that agreed to take him in.

Watching Marty and the boy gave Hope an uneasy feeling. She knew one of the main reasons
Marty was so keen on getting married was he was anxious to begin a family of
his own. He adored his niece and the multitude of nephews, but she knew how
badly the man yearned for kids of his own. She noted in the brief time that had
passed Marty was building some sort of emotional attachment to the boy and she was
a little more than concerned, because she didn’t know how deeply psychologically
and spiritually fractured the child was.
    The minute Marty turned to Hope and informed her he was
going back to work, she knew he was crossing the line and getting emotionally
involved. She could tell Marty already made up his mind that it was his
responsibility to find out who the child was and he was going to make it his
mission to make sure the little boy was reunited with his real family.
    Her plan was to discuss it with him when she drove him home
to get a change of clothes. She wondered now if this was the best time for them
to go on with their plans for their wedding this summer.
    “Maybe,” she thought to herself, “we can just postpone until
next year.” Then a scary thought crossed her mind. How on earth would she
explain