He slipped down the bank and nearly fell. Dry branches snapped under his shoe, loud enough to turn heads, and Deputy Higgins appeared above him a moment later. The officer was breathing hard, annoyed by the brief chase, and he held up one hand as if the gesture alone should make Leo stop moving. "You're coming with us," he said. "Your guardian has been worried sick."
"He isn't my guardian," Leo answered, though legally the situation was more complicated. "He hurt me. There are other kids in that house, and he hurt them too." Higgins's expression did not change. He caught Leo by the collar when the boy tried to back away, and the familiar sensation of adult fingers closing on his clothing made the last three weeks of freedom collapse into a single frightened breath.
The deputy pulled him up onto the service road and toward the gas station. Leo struggled only enough to keep his footing, his thoughts fixed on the possibility that somebody might see and ask questions. Hank waited beside the silver Ram, his face dark with anger and the bat resting against one leg. He smiled when Higgins brought the boy into view, a smile that told Leo the punishment had already been decided.
"Thought you were clever," Hank said. "Thought you could disappear and leave me to explain where my money went."
Leo looked toward the empty highway. There was no other car, no diner, no open business, nobody who might come walking out of the desert to ask whether a teenager wanted help. In that moment his entire world narrowed to three people, one ruined garage, and the knowledge that he had nowhere left to run.
Hank approached with the bat hanging loosely at his side, the same casual posture he used before his temper became visible. He asked Leo whether he had enjoyed his vacation and whether he had any idea how much trouble the search had caused. Leo could not answer without hearing accusation in every word. The deputy returned to his SUV and stood beside the open door, scanning the highway as though the real inconvenience was the heat.
"I'm not going back," Leo said. His voice shook, but he forced the words out again. "I'm not going back to that house."
Hank's expression turned flat. "You belong where the state puts you," he replied. "And the state put you with me." He reached for the front of Leo's hoodie and jerked him closer, making the boy wince around the pain in his ribs. "You cost me money, made people ask questions, and now you're going to come home and remember what gratitude looks like."
Leo tried to tell Higgins about the cracked ribs, the clinic, and the other children still in the house. The deputy sighed and said those were matters for social services, not something to debate in the middle of nowhere. He did not ask to see medical records or call the on-duty child protection team. Instead he told Hank to hurry because he had already spent too much of his shift on the search.