One officer moved toward him while another gently guided the girls away. They were stiff, frightened, but visibly relieved. One of them pointed toward Andrew’s car. The taller girl. The one with the tote. An officer crossed the street. “Andrew?”
“Yeah,” he said, swallowing hard. “You’re the one who called it in?” “I am. They left me a tip—$9.11, she really didn’t have to add that much, it didn’t make sense. And the girl… she looked at me like she wanted me to see it, like she was in trouble, the tip was kind of ingenious-”
The officer cut him off, “Well, thanks to you, we might’ve just stopped something really bad.” Andrew glanced past him. The man was now in handcuffs, arguing. His face flushed, veins in his neck bulging.
“That’s their father,” the officer said quietly. “They say he lost custody six months ago. No visitation rights. No contact allowed. The mother has full custody. He picked them up from school claiming there was a family emergency.”