Ariana looked. His eyes were calm, not sharp like Selene's men. His voice was soft, not rough like the traffickers. Still, her legs shook.
"Why… why are you helping me?" she asked, her voice breaking.
"Because no child should be alone like this," Adrian said. His face was firm, but his voice still gentle. "And because I have a daughter about your age. If she were lost, I would pray somebody good will find her."
The words cut deep into Ariana's heart. For the first time, she felt something inside her break not from pain, but from hope.
Her tears came again. She wiped them quick, but they kept falling. Slowly, with weak steps, she moved closer. She did not hold his hand, but she walked beside him.
Adrian didn't push her. He simply walked at her pace, protecting her with his presence, until they reached a small eatery with bright lights and the smell of warm food.
When the food came, rice and stew with soft meat Ariana almost forgot to breathe. She ate fast, too fast, until Adrian gently told her, "Slow down, child. The food is not running."
For the first time since she left her mother's house, Ariana felt a small light in her heart. Maybe, just maybe, she had found someone she could trust.
After the meal, Ariana leaned back on the chair, her small hands resting on her stomach. She had not felt this full in a long time. Her eyelids grew heavy, but she fought sleep because fear was still there.
Adrian noticed. "You need rest," he said gently. "But don't worry. I will not leave you. You're safe."
She looked at him. Safe. That word had always been a lie in her life. People said it, but then they hurt her. Could she believe him?
He stood up, went to the counter, and returned with a small loaf of bread wrapped in nylon. He placed it on the table in front of her. "Keep this. For later. No one will take it from you."
Ariana stared at the bread. Her hands shook as she held it, pressing it against her chest as if someone might snatch it. A tear slipped down her face before she could stop it.
Adrian pretended not to notice her tears. He only said, "Come, let's go. It's late."
The first night, he did not take her to his house. Instead, he booked a small guest room beside the hospital where he worked. The room had one bed, white sheets, and a small fan turning slowly.
"You can stay here tonight," Adrian said. "I will be next door. If you need anything, just knock."
Ariana stood at the door for a long time before stepping inside. The bed looked too clean, too soft, like something from another world. She lay down, but she did not sleep. Every sound outside made her jump. She hugged her small bag and whispered, "God, please let him be good. Please."
Days passed. Adrian never rushed her. He always greeted her with a smile, brought food, sometimes fruits, sometimes warm tea. He asked small questions, never too many at once.
"What do you like to eat?"
"Do you like to read books?"
"Do you want new clothes?"
At first, Ariana gave only short answers, nods, or shakes of the head. But slowly, her mouth began to open. She told him she liked rice more than beans. She told him she used to love drawing when she was small. She even smiled once when he gave her a storybook with bright pictures.
Adrian noticed her smile and said softly, "That's the smile you must keep. Don't let the world take it."
One evening, after almost a week, Adrian brought her a small bag with new clothes, two gowns, one pair of jeans, and slippers.
Ariana touched the fabric slowly, like she was afraid it would vanish. "For me?" she asked.
"Yes," Adrian said. "For you. You deserve more than this."
Her throat tightened. "Why… why are you so kind to me?"
Adrian sat down, his face calm. "Because I see pain in your eyes. And I cannot walk away from it."
Those words broke something inside Ariana. For the first time, she told someone a small piece of her story. "My mother… she doesn't want me." Her voice cracked. "She said I'm a disgrace."
Adrian's jaw tightened, but his voice stayed gentle. "That is not true. You are not a disgrace. You are precious."
Tears rolled down Ariana's face as she hid it in her hands. Adrian did not touch her, but he stayed near, his presence quiet and strong.
That night, Ariana slept without fear. For the first time in years, her dreams were soft.
Each day that passed, Ariana saw more reasons to believe that Adrian was different. He never shouted at her, never raised a hand to her, never called her names. His kindness was steady, not the kind that fades after one day.
He gave her books and sometimes read with her. He checked her health carefully, his stethoscope cool against her chest. "Your heart is strong," he told her once, smiling. She had never heard anyone say anything good about her body before.
At first, Ariana kept waiting for the change. She thought one day he would turn harsh, like her mother or Selene. She waited for the anger, the insults, the punishment. But the days turned into weeks, and the storm never came.
Adrian noticed her fear. One evening he told her, "Listen to me, Ariana. I don't know everything you have gone through, but I promise you I will never hurt you."
His words settled in her heart like soft rain on dry land. She nodded slowly, her lips trembling. "I believe you."
One Sunday afternoon, he took her to the hospital garden. Flowers bloomed in colors she had never stopped to notice before. Children ran around, laughing. Adrian watched her as she looked at them.
"Do you want to play?" he asked.
Ariana shook her head shyly. But inside, her heart ached. She remembered all the years her mother locked her away, refusing her the chance to make friends.
Adrian seemed to read her thoughts. "You will laugh like that too one day. I promise."
Something broke inside Ariana then. She whispered, "I don't even know how to laugh anymore."
Adrian's face softened. "Then I will teach you."
The wall in her heart began to crack. Slowly, she started talking more. She told him about the way her mother used to hide food. She told him about the beating, the shouting, the way she was called useless every day.
Sometimes she cried as she spoke, but Adrian never turned away. He let her cry until she was empty, then handed her tissue quietly.
One night, after she finished talking, she whispered, "Why do you care so much?"