I took in the sight of the team he had gathered. There were only two other officers because he’d wanted to keep it small to try not to spook Aiden. They were here to collect any evidence they found. I clenched and unclenched my hands, trying not to rub them anymore. There was a sore rash spreading over my hands and the constant rubbing was doing them no good.
“I understand. I think it’s too soon though.” My gut told me that. If Aiden wasn’t ready to speak to us, I doubted he was ready to show us either, though I’d continued to let him have pens and paper in case he decided to. So far he’d drawn nothing but scribbles.
“We need to try,” DCI Stevenson said. “But take your time.”
I glanced from the trees to the narrow road on my left. We were deliberately close to the spot where the driver had seen Aiden staggering away from the woods. This was where they had picked him up and taken him to the police station. What if it was them, I thought, and then dismissed it. Of course the police would have checked that avenue already. Besides, why would Aiden’s kidnapper take Aiden to the police station? I berated myself for my own stupidity. I wouldn’t be much help on this case if I didn’t think logically.
I turned to Aiden, who was as still as always, staring into the foggy woods. There was no indication that he even recognised his surroundings, certainly no indication that he had suffered some sort of psychological break after a traumatic event. It happened right here, in this spot. Unless… unless he wasn’t speaking before. The doctors had taken an MRI scan of his brain to check for brain damage; there was none. Aside from not speaking, he understood us; he walked, put his clothes on, brushed his teeth all with perfect coordination. There was no evidence to suggest that he had learning difficulties, though the doctor did tell us that autism was a possibility. In my heart, I knew it wasn’t autism. At six years old before he was taken from me, Aiden hadn’t shown any indication of autism. This mutism had been triggered through the years of trauma. Years. How could I ever get used to thinking that? Years of systematic abuse. How was he even still a person?
I wiped a sheen of sweat from my brow and pulled myself together. “Are you ready?”
Aiden had his hood pulled down so I couldn’t see his eyes. The sleeves of his jacket were too long, covering his hands, but I had the impression that Aiden was clenching his fists inside the coat. He was even straighter than usual. Perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps he was reacting more to the woods than I thought.
“Aiden? Can you show us where you came from? Do you remember the night you came out of the woods? You were walking down this road. It was raining then, too, but it was night-time and it was dark. You didn’t have a coat on like you do now. You just wore jeans and nothing else.” DCI Stevenson had told me to try and evoke Aiden’s sense of memory by mentioning as much detail as I could. “You came out of the woods from this direction.” I turned my body and indicated with my hand. “And then you walked down the road, except you were struggling to walk. I don’t think you’d walked that far for a long time.” I stopped to catch my breath.
“You’re doing well, Emma. Keep going.” Dr Foster gave me an encouraging nod.
I took a deep breath. DCI Stevenson watched carefully, with his hands tucked inside his pockets. Even though he went to great measures to keep his expression neutral, I saw the tension in his body and knew how much it would mean to him for this to work. I longed for it to work, too, but I had my doubts.
“Maybe if I walk into the woods a bit? Would you come with me, just to take a walk?” I suggested. When Aiden inevitably didn’t reply I took a few tentative steps. He didn’t. I reached out for him. “Come for a walk with Mummy.” There was a desperate tremor in my voice. I blinked, forcing back the emotion threatening to erupt. “It would make me really happy if you came for a walk with me. I really want to know, Aiden. I want to know what happened and where you came from. Will you show me?”
He moved with his left foot first and my heart swelled. Then another step. His movements were even stiffer than ever, like a robot taking its first steps. Then another step. I nodded him forwards, smiling so hard I felt the skin crack in the corners of my mouth. My cheeks ached. Another. But there was something wrong. He was breathing heavily.