Change of Heart - By S.E. Edwards Page 0,14

a kid growing up with no parents, you learn not to probe too deeply in the pasts of other orphans. Abby seemed to understand that, too. Our friendship developed with only a cursory knowledge of the other’s history.

We started hanging out around the point I finished my last month of high school. I was close to aging out of the orphanage. I had to start a life of my own. When Abby suggested attending a little community college in Northern Oregon, I jumped at the opportunity to go with her.

That had been a drastic mistake.

It didn’t take long for Abby’s behavior to become suspicious. Even though we’d signed up for many of the same courses, I rarely saw her in class. Even though she’d told me she had a few thousand dollars' worth of savings she’d use for rent, her payments were always late. Even though she’d promised she’d go job-hunting with me our first week here, somehow she never made it.

And while Abby looked pretty and prim on the outside, she lived like a pig. Dirty clothes would be thrown all over our apartment no matter how many times I asked her to keep them in her room. Unwashed dishes and moldy take-out cartons started piling up in the corners, under the couch, everywhere. I didn’t mind so much at first, but when all of my attempts to clean up the place became rendered obsolete by the following evening, it had started to become grating.

It took two weeks of living together for me to understand Abby was not who she pretended to be. At first, it was the little things: some of my clothes going missing, opening my wallet to find fewer dollar bills in there than I remembered. I ignored the troubling signs at first, hoping they would peter out. They never did. More and more of my things disappeared, until I had to resort to locking everything in my room each time I left the apartment. If I asked Abby about it, she’d just deny it, of course, and then bat those fake eyelashes and pretend everything was perfect.

Abby also liked guys—a lot.

Our third week living together, I woke up to find some shady looking guy with a mullet digging through our kitchen cupboards. I screamed out in surprise. Abby rushed in, laughing, and explained that he was Brady, a friend of hers. I thought maybe they had started dating.

I was wrong. I never saw Brady again. But for the remainder of the week, without fail, I’d wake up to find some other stranger sharing our breakfast table.

I didn’t judge, of course—I’d had a few weekend flings here or there myself—but with Abby, it was way beyond the point of being obnoxious. After her screams kept me up for three nights in a row, I decided enough was enough. I sat her down and confronted her about it. About everything. The missing clothing. The stolen money. The broken promises.

She cried a little, promised she’d change, and begged me not to leave. Against my better judgment, I caved in. That had been a month ago.

Things seemed to settle down after that. Until last night.

“Hey.”

Rich’s voice breaks me from my contemplations. I feel his hand on my shoulder. I look up.

“I just finished over there. How are you holding up?” he asks.

The innocence in his voice spikes something in me. Without warning, I feel my anger flare. “Well, let me see,” I start. “I know nothing about what’s going on. I’m stuck in a diner with a guy I barely know. Apparently we’re on the run, but he’s keeping me in the dark about everything. How do you think I’m holding up?” I finish with a vengeance.

Rich goes from shocked, to angry, to defiant, and back down to calm over the course of my tirade. “Fair enough,” he says slowly. “But I’m not the one to get angry with.”

I sigh, knowing that he’s right. “No, it’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have snapped. There’s just a lot going on in my life right now. I’ve barely had any sleep for two nights in a row, and now this…” I motion around helplessly.

Rich takes the seat next to me. “I know it’s a lot to take in, but trust me when I say I want nothing more than to get you out of this as soon as possible.”

“You’re that eager to get rid of me, huh?” I try to joke. It comes out wanting.

“I want to get you safe,” Rich