Mum, Im hungry and I want to go out! squealed little Poppy as she waddled over to her father.
Andrew was midway through polishing off his third pint of lager and thumping away at a firstperson shooter on his desktop. Hed got a crucial match to finish, and those incessant chirps were driving him mad. When would the girl finally shut up and stop demanding attention? He was past the point of patience. Anger simmered further when Poppy clutched his sleeve, pleading for a look. How old was she now? Five? Supposedly a big kid who could rustle up her own porridge. Yet here he was, still hanging about the garage with his mates while his daughter behaved like a helpless little worm.
The distraction cost Andrew dearly he lost the round. Fury clouded his eyes. He sprang up, bolted to the kitchen, grabbed a hardened loaf of bread and hurled it at his daughter.
Take it and chew it, cant you reach for yourself? he barked.
He poured a glass of milk from the fridge, set it on the table, and, after Poppy reminded him that Mum always warms the milk, declared that he wasnt her mum and that shed better learn that fact once and for all. He then scurried back to his computer, hoping a full stomach would silence her petty requests. It didnt. After a quick bathroom break, he returned, only to find the coveted armchair already occupied by the cold.
Dad, I want to go out. Mum and I always go for walks! Poppy whined, pursing her lips.
Want a walk? Brilliant! Off you go! Andrew replied, spotting a golden opportunity for some peace and quiet. He rummaged through Poppys wardrobe, pulling out warm trousers, a sweater, mitts, and a coat with a matching hat. After a hasty dressing, he practically shoved her into the front garden and told her to stay out until he called her back. With a satisfied sigh, he slipped on his headphones, cranked up his favourite music, cracked open a fresh can of fizzy pop and resumed blasting virtual enemies, delighted that nothing would interrupt his game.
Poppy shivered. She remembered Mum always dressing her in cozier gear for winter strolls. The sun was long gone, and Mum never sent her out at dusk. How terribly she missed her mother the good times and the terrible ones alike. Her tiny lips trembled as she tried the garden gate, only to find Andrew had locked it. Determined not to freeze, she set off to run, but the snowcovered path was a mess, uncleared for days, making her footing miserable. She tried to roll a snowman, but the powder was so dry it behaved more like sand than snow. She even wondered aloud whether the snow might actually be cold sand. She knocked on the back door repeatedly, but no one answered, as if shed vanished. Fear welled up; her breath turned to mist as she sobbed for her dad, who ignored her. Wrapping her arms around herself, she spied the slightly ajar garden gate and slipped through, hoping to warm her frozen feet a little. She thought of neighbour Aunt Lucy, who often gave them milk, but Lucys house was dark. Poppy knocked, got no answer probably nobody was home. She kept walking, soon moving away from the little village because their cottage sat on the edge of the hamlet. The wind howled, visibility dropped to nothing, and she felt terror creep in. She ran, gulped icy air, called for Dad, but the only image that kept flashing in her mind was Andrews irritated face and his gruff, Leave me alone, Im not your mum! Realising she was utterly alone, she tried to shield herself from the gale that knocked her down, fell to her knees, and felt the snow sting her skin while the biting wind seeped under her layers.
When Andrew finally remembered his daughter, it was close to two in the morning. He might never have thought of her again if not for a sudden, terrifying knock on the kitchen window while he was dashing to the loo. Bare branches of a lilac outside were frosted, rattling wildly in the wind.
A proper blizzard, he muttered, then the thought of leaving Poppy out in the cold hit him like a wall.
He bolted outside, shouting for Poppy, but she was nowhere to be seen. A cold dread seized his heart: it was late, the snowstorm was raging, and his little girl could be freezing. He waved his arms wildly, as if that would summon her. Shell be fine, shell find a way home, he told himself.
Assuming the child had fled to a neighbour, Andrew trotted back inside, shivering from the chill. He wasnt overly worried; Aunt Lucy often looked after Poppy. Spotting a light in Lucys window, he managed to calm himself. When his wife, Diane, texted asking how they were doing, he replied coolly that they were asleep and everything was fine.
Married life had been rough lately Diane reminded him constantly of her late mother, nagging him about getting a job instead of sitting in his pyjamas playing games. He dreamed of being a professional gamer, citing the lucrative earnings of esports stars, and blamed Diane for never supporting him, promising shed sing a different tune once he started raking in the big bucks.
He collapsed onto the couch and fell asleep, leaving the front door unlocked just in case Poppy decided to return. Dawn found him woken by a shrill voice Dianes sister, Diana.
Are you off your rocker? Hes got a child and hes just wheres Poppy?! she screeched.
Enough of that! Im not home, Andrew waved off, rolling over. Diana clutched his wrist, yanked him upright, and he toppled onto the floor.
When I get my hands on you, Ill count every bone! he snarled, rubbing his bruised side. Unlike his gentle sisterinlaw, Oliva, Diana was a tough cookie, trained in karate since she was a teen. She could have taken him down in a heartbeat.
Wheres the child? Where did you send my niece? I came for Poppy! Diana demanded.
Its wandering the village, where else could she be? Andrew replied, trying to sound casual about the fact hed literally booted his fiveyearold out the door so he could finish his game.
Dianas eyes widened. She was ready to pounce on Andrew for treating his daughter like an afterthought. If anythings happened to Poppy Ill she threatened, just tell me where you dumped her!
Andrew feigned ignorance. She went out yesterday, probably to Aunt Lucys on the ninth street. Thats all I know. He omitted that hed tossed her out.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Diana sprinted to Lucys house. Her hands trembled; she couldnt grasp why Andrew hadnt searched for his own daughter when he realised she was missing, especially with the storm still howling. She battered on the door until the elderly neighbour, pale and shaking, finally answered. No, I havent seen her, she said, eyes wide. Diana had just returned from a work trip, her mind still on the sister in hospital, and now she was chasing a missing child while everyone else stayed indoors, shutters drawn against the wind. She raced back home, shaking Andrew as he sat, obliviously booting up his game again. She pounded his shoulders, wailing, Wheres the child?! He tried to reassure her, Shell be fine, shell turn up. She shrieked, You told Diane we were asleep, you left her alone outside!
Diana decided not to tell Oliva the full story yet, fearing it would upset her sister who was about to undergo heart surgery. She called the police, and Andrew tried to snatch the phone away, but Diana gave him a cold, threatening stare that said Dont even think about it. The rescue service promised to comb the area, though the snowstorm made visibility almost zero. Diana kept asking herself whether this was a nightmare or some twisted reality TV plot.
Police arrived quickly, took statements, and, after piecing together the chaos, slapped handcuffs on the father.
Did you do anything to the child? one officer asked, disgust evident.
Nothing! I swear! Andrew protested.
The officer replied, Leaving a fiveyearold alone in a blizzard is a serious offence. He shook his head at the sight of Andrews smug expression.
Diana sobbed uncontrollably, terrified of what might have happened to Poppy. The rescuers unearthed a small heap of snow that wasnt natural a clue. She was handed a pair of mittens shed taken on a business trip, which turned out to belong to Poppy. She nearly fainted, leaning against a cupboard for support. A detective entered, Weve only found the mittens so far. The search is ongoing, but the storms made it difficult.
She clutched the mittens, eyes brimming, and whispered a prayer that the little girl would be found alive.
Hours turned into a sleepless night. Finally, a call came from the regional hospital: a fiveyearold had been admitted, and Diana was to meet her there immediately. She rushed, heart pounding, and found the small, shivering Poppy on a gurney. A young doctor, Dr. Samuel, stepped forward.
Is she your daughter? he asked gently.
Its my niece, Diana managed, still trembling.
The doctors say shes strong. Shell pull through, Samuel assured.
A police officer escorted Diana to a quiet corner for a chat, while she sat beside Poppys bed, took her hand and wept with relief. The girls condition: mild frostbite on her fingertips and a possible earlystage pneumonia, though scans showed no obvious inflammation yet.
Dr. Samuel explained that the snowstorm had delayed treatment, but Poppy would recover with rest and antibiotics. Hed found her after his own dog, Charlie, chased a small figure into the woods, grabbed the childs sleeve, and brought her back. Diana, still shaking, thanked Charlie, calling him a hero.
Later, Samuel invited Diana for a coffee in the hospital lounge. Shed been up for twentyfour hours without food or sleep, and the thought of telling Oliva the whole truth weighed on her. Still, she knew her sister would be devastated to learn her daughter had been left out in the storm.
Oliva, after being discharged, visited the ward. No operation needed, she announced, the treatments working. Ill be home soon. She turned to Diana, eyes widening, Wheres Poppy? Did you leave her with Andrew?
Diana lowered her head, letting the story spill out from the end so the blow would be softer. Oliva gasped, tears streaming, unable to fathom that Andrew could be so callous. She declared she would file for divorce the moment she left the hospital.
In the weeks that followed, Charlie became a regular visitor, and Poppy grew attached to the shaggy dog, constantly begging for a big bone or a treat. Diana and Samuels friendship blossomed into something sweeter. Oliva moved into Dianas flat, packing up after a swift divorce, while Andrew faced a short prison term and a criminal record for child neglect. He showed little remorse, complaining that now hed have to earn a living. He turned sour, picking fights with everyone, until one night, after a drunken confession about abandoning his family, a group of locals gave him a good, hard thrashing, labeling him a disgrace.
Andrew ended up bedridden with a broken back, unable to return to his gaming throne. He tried, in vain, to win Oliva and Poppy back, but shed seen his true colours and refused. Oliva focused on rehabilitating her daughters trauma, while Diana planned to marry Samuel, convinced his heart was as big as his willingness to save a child.
The whole mess began with a pint, a game, and a dad who thought Ill sort it later.
