Details

Chapter 15: Let Us Help You, Miss Sorenson

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Welcome to the fifteenth chapter of 'Details'.

Owen to the rescue!  Finally. 

A very happy birthday to anon2404 and rosebud024!!! :D 

And lots of thanks to BLTS2004, again. ;) 

Hugs,

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Chapter 15: Let Us Help You, Miss Sorenson

Owen's P.O.V.

How on earth did she end up in Mr. Lee's home, of all places? With seven out of nine recovery-specialized team members searching for her, she'd managed to turn the tables and find the only two that weren't, including the one person in the family that she hadn't met yet. If I wasn't so on edge, I would have found humor in the situation.

I wasn't even sure why I was so surprised, since Miss Sorenson never seemed to fit into whatever box I put her in. I'd learned that the world was not black and white a long time ago, but even in my nuanced world of grey, she always managed to thwart my system.

She was color.

Frowning, I lifted my hand from the wheel, straightening my silver tie in a move that was becoming too close to a habit. It was not a good idea to get so set in a rhythm that habits started taking hold. Getting too used to a status quo caused situational blindness, and as the team liaison, I couldn't afford to lose focus. No, change was good; it had always been good for our little family. This change, this addition to my world, was good, too.

And even if I'd wanted to, even if I could fathom ever walking away from her, I didn't think I could go back to the grey. My world had shifted, color had entered as if painted with permanent marker, and there was no way I could ever erase it.

Looking through the rearview mirror at my youngest brother, I couldn't stop the quirk of my lips. It was a good thing that Mr. Coleman couldn't read my thoughts, or I'd have a new wardrobe by tomorrow.

He needed to learn the art of subtlety. No, I would appreciate Miss Sorenson from the grey, like one would admire summer from the heart of winter.

The drive to Sunnyvale Court was short; too short, probably, but we were all eager to arrive. Mr. Taylor parked his black jeep on the street in front of the house, the light from Mr. Lee's room above the garage reflecting on the tinted windows. Despite how keen we were to see that Miss Sorenson was well, we were all slow to exit the cars. It was as if the world had slowed down as we uncertainly entered the house. I wouldn't be surprised if we were all thinking the same things.

What if she was more hurt than we'd thought?

What if she still didn't want to see us?

What if we made yet another mistake, and scared her off?

I had always prided myself, and my team, for being well-prepared, rational, capable, and considerate. With all the ways we'd failed Miss Sorenson, you'd think the Academy had never found us. I was of half a mind to demand hours every day until she was healthy and happy again.