A Little Girl Came to Me, a Private Detective, and Asked Me to Find Her a Family — Story of the Day

I was sitting in my office, flipping through old case files, trying to decide what could be tossed.

My desk was buried under stacks of notebooks, some so worn that the ink had started to fade.

When you work as a private detective, paper piles up fast. Most people these days prefer laptops, but I stick with pen and paper. It feels more reliable. Less chance of someone hacking into a notebook.

As I reached for another file, I heard the doorknob turn. I froze. Lindsay always knocked before coming in. This was someone else. My muscles tensed.

The door creaked open, but no one stepped inside. Then I glanced down. A little girl stood there, no older than eight. I frowned. I didn’t like kids. They were unpredictable, loud—trouble.

She looked like she hadn’t brushed her hair in days. Her clothes were wrinkled, too big for her small frame. Still, she marched to my desk, climbed into the chair, and stared.

Ugh. Why are kids so creepy?

“How can I help you?” I asked, leaning back in my chair. I kept my voice even, but something about this kid made me uneasy. She sat too still. Too calm.

“I’m glad you asked,” she said. Her voice was clear, steady. “My name is Maya. I want you to find me a family.”

I stared at her. “Did you get lost? Go to the police. Let them handle it.”

She shook her head. “No, you don’t understand. I need you to find me a family.”

I frowned. What was her name again? Mary? Molly?

“I still don’t get it, Molly—”

“Maya,” she corrected. “I’m an orphan, and I want you to find me a family.”

I laughed. It slipped out before I could stop it. I had taken some strange cases before, but this? This was a new one.

“I’m not child services. Let them deal with it,” I said.

“I’m almost eight,” Maya said. “Soon, I’ll be too old. No one adopts kids my age.”

“That’s not my problem,” I said. “Besides, you can’t even pay me.”

Maya dug into her pocket, pulled something out, and placed it on my desk. A small, worn locket.

I picked it up, turned it over in my hand. The metal was dull, scratched.

“This is just cheap jewelry,” I said. “It’s worthless.”

“It’s all I have,” Maya said. Her voice was quiet now.

I sighed. “That’s enough. Let’s go.”

“Where?” she asked.

“I’m taking you back where you came from,” I said.

“No!” Maya shouted, twisting to run. I grabbed her arm before she could slip away.

“Never let kids into my office again,” I told Lindsay as I passed.

“But she was so cute!” Lindsay called after me.

After an hour of arguing, Maya finally led me to the house where she lived with her foster family.

When we arrived, I stopped in my tracks. The house looked run-down. The paint peeled off the walls, the yard was nothing but dirt, and toys were scattered everywhere.

At least ten kids ran around, shouting and chasing each other. A woman stood on the porch, hands on her hips, yelling at them to settle down. No one listened.

“Are these all the neighbor’s kids?” I asked.

Maya shook her head. “Nope. They all live here. The foster parents get paid for each one.”

I stared at the house, then at the woman, then back at Maya. “How many kids live here?”

She shrugged. “A lot. More than ten.”

I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. “Give me the locket.”

“Why?” she asked, tilting her head.

“Because I don’t work for free.”

Maya grinned and placed the locket in my hand. I turned it over, studying the scratched surface. Worthless.

“Do you have any family?” I asked.

“My parents died when I was two.”

“Anyone else?”

She hesitated. “I have an uncle. He’s in Canada.”

“He ever visit?”

“No, but he sends gifts for my birthday and Christmas.”

I nodded. “Alright. Here’s the plan. We’re going to tell that woman I’m your uncle. You’ll stay with me for a few days. Got it?”

Maya’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Yeah. But only for a few days.”

She nodded quickly.

We walked up to the woman. I gave her my best serious face and told her I was Maya’s long-lost uncle.

She barely listened. Just waved her hand, told me to bring Maya back by next week, and went back to yelling at the other kids.

That was easy. Too easy.

I brought Maya home. As soon as we walked in, I pointed at her. “Don’t touch anything.”

She looked around. “Nice place.”

“Don’t get comfortable.”

Maya grinned. “So, what’s the plan?”

“I’ll look up families who want to adopt, make a list, and we’ll meet them one by one. Whichever one you like, that’s your family.”

“Why don’t they do that for all orphans?”

“There are too many of you.”

Maya frowned. Her shoulders slumped.

“Sorry,” I muttered. “I’m not good with kids.”

She ignored that and pointed at a framed photo on the shelf. “Who’s that?”

“My wife.”

“Where is she now?”

“She passed away.” I hesitated. “Cancer.”

Maya studied me. “Is that why you don’t like kids? Because you couldn’t have any?”

I tensed. “We didn’t want kids.” I glanced at the photo. “I travel a lot. Melissa traveled, too. She was a journalist. Kids didn’t fit into that kind of life.” Maya tilted her head. I frowned. “Who are you? No one’s ever gotten me to say this much before.”

She just laughed.

That night, I sat at my desk, sifting through profiles of families looking to adopt.

Some seemed decent, others not so much. I picked a few that looked promising.

The plan was simple—meet them, see if Maya liked them, and if she did, that would be that.

But things didn’t go as planned. Life with a kid changed everything. I woke up earlier to make her breakfast.

Pancakes, eggs, cereal—whatever I could throw together. I had to make sure she ate lunch and dinner, too.

I bought her some clothes, a few books. Took her on walks. Answered a million questions.

Every day, we met a different family. But Maya didn’t like any of them. I couldn’t blame her.

Some were cold, some overly sweet. Some barely looked at her. Others seemed desperate. None felt right.

Something else happened, though. I got used to her. I liked having her around. And I wasn’t sure I wanted to let her go.

That evening, I read to her. I had to talk to her.

“Listen, what if the family isn’t… complete?” I asked, closing the book.

Maya blinked. “What do you mean?”

I hesitated. “What if it’s just a father?”

She tilted her head. “Depends. What’s he like?”

I cleared my throat. “Maybe… someone like me?”

Maya grinned. “Then that would be great, Detective.”

She never called me Ron. Always “Detective.”

I smiled. She had me all figured out. As always.

That night, as Maya slept, I sat at my desk, lost in thought. I had already decided—I would make this a special day for her.

Balloons, cake, maybe even a small gift. She deserved that. A real celebration. But something kept pulling at me.

Was I really the best choice for her? I traveled for work. I lived alone. She needed stability, a home with two parents. People who could give her more than I ever could.

I sighed and turned back to my computer. I searched again, hoping I had missed something. Then I saw their names.

Mike and Nancy.

My chest tightened. Melissa and I had been close to them once, but after she passed, I drifted away. Now, they were looking to adopt.

They would be good to her. Better than me.

I exhaled slowly, picked up my phone, and dialed Mike’s number.

“Hey,” I said when Mike picked up. My voice felt heavy. “I know we haven’t talked in a while, but…”

Mike was quiet for a second. Then, “Ron? It’s been years.”

“I know,” I said. “I should’ve called before now.” I hesitated. “Listen, there’s a kid. Her name is Maya. She needs a family.”

Mike didn’t miss a beat. “Tell me everything.”

That night, I didn’t sleep. I packed up her books, her toys, even the stuffed bear she pretended not to like. I checked her locket. Still in my pocket.

Morning came too fast. I woke her up. We ate breakfast in silence. Then we got in the car.

“Where are we going, Detective?” she asked, rubbing her eyes.

I gripped the steering wheel. “To your family.”

Maya sat up. “What?!”

“Some friends of mine, Mike and Nancy. They’re great people. They’ve been waiting for you.”

She stared at me. Her eyes filled with tears. “But I thought you were going to adopt me!”

I swallowed hard. “They’ll be a better family for you than I can be.”

Maya’s face crumpled. “But I want you to be my dad!”

I forced my voice to stay steady. “I’ll visit. We’ll see each other. Trust me, you’re going to love Mike and Nancy. And they’re going to love you.”

We pulled up. Mike and Nancy stood outside, waiting.

“We’re here,” I said.

Maya didn’t wait. She bolted from the car. I heard Nancy gasp, her voice breaking as she greeted Maya.

Mike turned to me. “Thank you.” He hugged me. Nancy followed.

“You still have a mountain of paperwork ahead,” I muttered.

“Whatever it takes,” Nancy said. “We have a daughter now.” She stroked Maya’s hair.

I took a breath. “Maya, how about a goodbye hug?”

She glared at me, tears spilling over. “No! I hate you!” She ran behind Nancy.

I clenched my jaw. I nodded. Then I got in my car and drove away.

​​I gripped the steering wheel, my knuckles white. My chest ached. I wanted to turn around, to take her back, to tell her I had made a mistake. But I hadn’t. She would be better off. Someday, she’d see that too.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the locket. I turned it over in my palm, feeling its worn edges.

Not long ago, it had been all she had. And she had given it to me—to find her a family.

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