Adam jolted awake to the sound of screaming. For a moment, he was disoriented, his heart racing as he tried to make sense of what he was hearing. Then he realized—the cries were coming from Londyn's room.
He threw off the covers and rushed down the hallway, his pulse pounding. "Londyn!" he called out, knocking quickly on her door before pushing it open.
Inside, Londyn was thrashing in her bed, tangled in her blankets. Tears streamed down her face, and she cried out between broken sobs, "No! Please, no! I'm sorry! Don't leave me!" Her voice cracked with desperation, and it was like a dagger to Adam's heart.
"Londyn! Sweetheart, wake up!" Adam said, kneeling beside her bed and gently shaking her shoulder. "It's just a dream. You're safe. I'm here."
Her eyes shot open, wild and filled with fear. She scrambled backward against the headboard, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. "Daddy?" she whimpered, her voice trembling.
Adam's heart ached at the sound of her calling him that. He sat down on the edge of the bed, his tone soft and reassuring. "I'm right here, sweetheart. You're okay. It was just a nightmare."
Londyn's tears flowed freely as she clung to him, burying her face in his chest. Her small hands fisted his shirt as she sobbed, her body trembling against him. "It was her," she choked out. "It was Mom. She was yelling at me, saying I ruined her life. She kept screaming and wouldn't stop, and then she left me all alone again."
Adam wrapped his arms around her tightly, his hand gently stroking her back. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that, Londyn," he murmured. "But it was just a dream. She's not here, and she can't hurt you anymore. I promise."
"I thought you were gone too," Londyn whispered through her tears. "I called for you, but you didn't come."
Adam pulled back slightly to look her in the eyes, his expression earnest. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there right away, but I'll always come for you, Londyn. Always. You're never going to be alone again. I promise, okay?"
She sniffled, nodding slightly as her grip on him loosened. "Okay," she whispered.
Adam noticed the damp patch on her bed but didn't mention it, not wanting to embarrass her. Instead, he gently said, "Let's get you cleaned up and into some fresh pajamas. I'll take care of the bed."
Londyn hesitated, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I… I wet the bed," she admitted quietly.
Adam gave her a soft smile, his tone full of understanding. "That's okay, kiddo. It happens to everyone sometimes, especially after a scary dream. No big deal. Let's get it sorted out together, yeah?"
She nodded, wiping her face with the sleeve of her shirt before shuffling to her dresser. Adam quickly stripped the bed, replacing the sheets with fresh ones. By the time Londyn returned, dressed in clean pajamas, the bed was ready for her.
He tucked her back in, smoothing the blanket over her. "Do you want me to stay with you until you fall asleep?" he asked gently.
"Can you stay, Daddy?" she whispered, her voice still shaky.
Adam's chest swelled with emotion, and he smiled at her. "Of course, I'll stay. I'm not going anywhere."
He sat beside her, leaning back against the headboard as she curled up next to him. He began humming softly, a tune his mom used to sing to him when he was little. The gentle melody seemed to calm her, and soon her breathing evened out as she drifted off to sleep.
As Londyn slept peacefully, Adam stayed by her side, his thoughts racing. The nightmare she described weighed heavily on him. He had known from the beginning that Londyn had been through unimaginable trauma, but hearing her relive it in such vivid detail made him realize just how deeply those scars ran.
He gently brushed a strand of hair from her face, his mind already considering his next steps. Londyn needed more than just a safe home and his love—she needed professional help to process everything she'd been through.
The next morning, as Adam prepared breakfast, he made a mental note to reach out to her social worker, Renae, about therapy options. He didn't want Londyn to feel like there was something wrong with her—quite the opposite. He wanted her to know that it was okay to talk about her feelings, that she didn't have to carry the weight of her past alone.
When Londyn shuffled into the kitchen, still looking a little tired but more at ease, Adam greeted her with a warm smile. "Morning, kiddo. How'd you sleep after we got you settled?"
"Better," she said softly, climbing onto a stool at the kitchen island. "Thanks for staying with me, Daddy."
"Always," Adam said, sliding a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of her. "Hey, Londyn, I was thinking… You know how we talk about stuff when you're feeling sad or scared?"
She nodded, chewing a piece of toast.
"Well, I was wondering if you'd like to talk to someone else, too. Someone who's really good at helping kids who've been through tough times. A therapist," he explained gently, watching her reaction closely.
Londyn paused, her fork hovering over her plate. "Like… someone I don't know?"
"Yeah," Adam said. "But it'd be someone nice, someone whose job is to help you feel better. And we can go together at first, if you want. You wouldn't have to talk about anything you're not ready to share."
She looked thoughtful, her brow furrowing. "Would it help?"
"I think it could," Adam said honestly. "I want you to feel safe and happy, and if there's someone who can help us figure that out, I think it's worth a try. But only if you're okay with it."
Londyn hesitated for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Okay. I'll try."
Adam smiled, relieved. "That's all I could ask for, sweetheart. I'm proud of you."
As Londyn ate her breakfast, Adam felt a flicker of hope. This was just one step, but it was a big one. Together, they would face whatever challenges came their way—and Londyn would never have to face them alone.
A week later, Adam parked his car in front of a modest brick building with large windows and a welcoming sign that read Willow Creek Counseling Center. Londyn sat in the passenger seat, her hands tightly gripping Mr. Cuddles, the stuffed bear Makayla had gifted her.
"You ready, kiddo?" Adam asked gently, turning toward her.
Londyn's legs swung nervously, her sneakers brushing against the car floor. "I think so," she said softly, her voice wavering. "But… what if I don't know what to say?"
Adam reached over and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "That's okay. You don't have to say anything you don't want to. It's just a chance to talk about how you're feeling, and the therapist is there to help you, not to judge you. I'll be right here the whole time."
Londyn nodded, gripping Mr. Cuddles a little tighter. "Okay."
They stepped inside the building, where the soft hum of a water fountain and the faint scent of lavender greeted them. The waiting room was cozy, with brightly colored chairs and a bookshelf filled with children's books and puzzles. A kind-looking receptionist smiled at them.
"You must be Londyn," she said warmly. "Dr. Morgan is excited to meet you."
Londyn nodded shyly, keeping close to Adam as they sat down to wait. Adam gave her a reassuring smile, hoping to ease her nerves.
A few minutes later, a woman with curly brown hair and kind eyes entered the room. She wore a soft cardigan and had a warm, approachable demeanor. "Hi, Londyn," she said with a gentle smile. "I'm Dr. Morgan, but you can just call me Morgan if you'd like. Are you ready to come back with me?"
Londyn glanced up at Adam, her grip on his hand tightening.
"You can do this, sweetheart," Adam said softly. "And I'll be right here if you need me."
Londyn hesitated for a moment, then nodded, standing up slowly and following Dr. Morgan down the hall.
Dr. Morgan's office was bright and inviting, with soft cushions on the couch, a small table covered in art supplies, and a few toys neatly arranged on shelves. Londyn's eyes darted around the room, taking in every detail.
"You can sit wherever you'd like," Dr. Morgan said gently, sitting down in a chair across from the couch.
Londyn chose the couch, hugging Mr. Cuddles close to her chest.
"I love your bear," Dr. Morgan said with a kind smile. "Does he have a name?"
"Mr. Cuddles," Londyn whispered, her voice barely audible.
"That's a great name," Dr. Morgan said. "He looks like he gives really good hugs."
Londyn nodded, her fingers nervously stroking the bear's fur.
Dr. Morgan leaned back slightly, her tone calm and casual. "So, Londyn, your dad told me a little bit about how brave you've been and some of the tough things you've gone through. But today, we don't have to talk about anything you're not ready to. We can just get to know each other. How does that sound?"
Londyn hesitated but eventually nodded.
"Do you like to draw?" Dr. Morgan asked, gesturing to the table of art supplies.
"Yeah," Londyn said softly.
"Why don't we start with that? You can draw anything you want—something you like, something that makes you happy, or just shapes and colors. Whatever you feel like," Dr. Morgan said.
Londyn slid off the couch and approached the table cautiously. She chose a sheet of paper and a few markers, sitting down to start drawing.
Dr. Morgan stayed quiet for a while, letting Londyn focus. When Londyn held up her picture—a small house with a garden and a bright yellow sun—Dr. Morgan smiled warmly. "That's beautiful. Is this a place you've been before, or maybe somewhere you'd like to go?"
"It's… somewhere I wish I could live," Londyn said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Dr. Morgan nodded. "It looks like a peaceful and happy place. Is it okay if we talk about what makes it feel that way to you?"
Londyn paused, glancing at Mr. Cuddles, before slowly nodding. "It's quiet. And nobody yells. There's always food… and nice people."
Dr. Morgan's heart ached at the simplicity of Londyn's wishes. "That sounds like a wonderful place, Londyn. And you know what? It sounds like the kind of home your dad is trying to give you."
Londyn blinked, her eyes filling with tears. "He's really nice. He doesn't get mad when I mess up… like when I spilled juice the other day. He just helped me clean it."
"That's because he cares about you," Dr. Morgan said gently. "And it sounds like he's showing you what a safe and loving home feels like."
Londyn nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Yeah. He's really nice."
As Londyn walked out of Dr. Morgan's office holding Mr. Cuddles tightly, she seemed calmer, her steps a little lighter than when she'd first walked in. Adam noticed the subtle change and felt a flicker of hope.
"Hey, kiddo, why don't you go pick out a book from the shelf while I talk to Dr. Morgan for a minute?" Adam said, crouching slightly to meet her eyes.
Londyn glanced between him and Dr. Morgan, hesitating for a moment, but then nodded. "Okay," she said softly, heading toward the bookshelf in the waiting area.
Once Londyn was out of earshot, Adam turned to Dr. Morgan, his expression shifting from warmth to concern. "So, how do you think she's doing?" he asked, his voice low.
Dr. Morgan gestured toward her office. "Why don't we sit for a moment?"
Adam followed her back inside and took a seat across from her, leaning forward slightly with his hands clasped. He looked at her, his worry clear. "Be honest with me—what are we dealing with here? I mean, I know she's been through hell, but I don't want to miss something she needs because I don't know enough about this."
Dr. Morgan gave him a reassuring smile. "First, let me say that you're already doing so much for Londyn just by being there for her. She trusts you, Adam, and that's a big deal. That trust will be one of the most important foundations for her healing."
Adam exhaled, some of the tension in his shoulders easing. "Okay, but… what about the nightmares? The way she shuts down sometimes? Is that… normal?"
Dr. Morgan nodded. "What you're describing is common for children who've experienced trauma. Nightmares, heightened sensitivity to certain situations, and even bedwetting can all be symptoms of PTSD, especially given what Londyn has been through. But the good news is that kids are resilient. With the right support, she can learn to process those experiences in a healthy way."
Adam frowned, leaning back slightly. "I hate that she went through all of this. She's just a kid. I don't want her to carry this weight for the rest of her life."
"That's a natural feeling, Adam," Dr. Morgan said gently. "But healing doesn't mean erasing the past—it means learning how to live with it in a way that doesn't define her. Right now, Londyn is still learning what safety and stability feel like. Every day that you show her she's safe, loved, and valued, you're helping her heal. Therapy will help her learn how to express her feelings and work through her fears in a safe environment."
Adam nodded slowly, taking in her words. "She said something during the nightmare… about her mom yelling at her and blaming her for everything. Is that something I should bring up with her, or is it better to let her bring it up when she's ready?"
"It's good that she's already starting to share those memories with you, even if it's through her nightmares," Dr. Morgan said. "But you're right not to push her. If she feels safe enough to talk about it, she will. For now, the best thing you can do is validate her feelings and remind her that her mom's behavior wasn't her fault. Kids at her age tend to internalize blame, even when they've done nothing wrong."
Adam swallowed hard, his jaw tightening as he fought the anger he felt toward Londyn's mom. "I just… I don't want her to ever think she's unworthy of love because of what her mom did."
"She already knows she's loved, Adam," Dr. Morgan said with a warm smile. "I can see it in the way she talks about you. The fact that she called you 'Daddy' today says a lot about how much trust she's already placed in you."
Adam's heart clenched at the memory. He'd never forget the way Londyn's voice had trembled when she'd said it, but the fact that she'd chosen to call him that filled him with a sense of purpose he'd never felt before.
"Is there anything I should be doing differently?" he asked, his voice steady but full of worry.
"You're doing a great job," Dr. Morgan said. "But one thing I'd recommend is establishing some routines. Routines can be very grounding for kids who've experienced instability. It gives them something predictable to rely on, whether it's regular mealtimes, bedtime rituals, or even something as simple as a weekend activity you both enjoy."
Adam nodded thoughtfully. "Okay, I can do that. She's been wanting to go to the park more, so maybe we make that a Saturday tradition or something."
"That sounds perfect," Dr. Morgan said. "One last thing—Londyn might have moments where she tests boundaries or gets frustrated. That's normal for kids in her situation. When it happens, stay calm and consistent. Let her know the boundaries are there because you care about her and want to keep her safe."
Adam ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. "This is all new to me. I'm just trying to figure it out as I go."
"And that's exactly what makes you a good parent," Dr. Morgan said with a reassuring smile. "You're showing up for her, and that's what matters most."
Adam stood, shaking her hand. "Thank you, Dr. Morgan. I appreciate everything."
As they walked back to the waiting area, Adam spotted Londyn sitting cross-legged on the rug, flipping through a colorful picture book. She looked up when she saw him, her eyes lighting up.
"You ready to go, kiddo?" he asked, holding out a hand.
Londyn nodded, standing and slipping her hand into his.
As they left the building, Adam glanced down at her. "How about we stop for ice cream on the way home? You deserve it after today."
Londyn's face broke into a smile, her earlier nervousness forgotten. "Can I get sprinkles?"
"Sprinkles? That's a given," Adam said with a grin.
As they walked to the car, Adam felt a renewed sense of determination. Londyn's journey wouldn't be easy, but he'd be there every step of the way, doing whatever it took to help her heal and grow.