“Me too. Let's have some, what do you think? I brought you some dinner, too. I think you'll like it, but I didn't make it this time.”
“Are you Serafina?”
“I am. Are you Ava?”
She nodded, then reared back a little, suspicion thick in her gaze. “It's not a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, is it?”
I laughed. “No. You'll see.”
She stood up. Gently, I followed. If I held my breath and braced my side, it wasn't too bad, but several moments still passed before I could breathe normally again. If she noticed, she gave no sign.
“Come on.” I motioned her onto a nearby bench, then patted the counter next to me. Phones and paperwork cluttered the other side, but this space was empty. “Climb on that, then sit here.”
“Dad doesn't let me sit up there.”
I winked. “Dad isn't here, is he? I'll keep you safe.”
Probably a false promise. With a broken rib, I wasn't even sure I'd be able to carry a tray anymore. Still, I couldn't deny her the pleasure of a minuscule rebellion on a hard day. Beaming, she obeyed. Five minutes later, I'd sliced her a few pieces of rotisserie chicken with a plastic knife I'd nabbed at the deli counter, broke off a wing, and stuck a spoon in packages of warm mashed potatoes and corn. I bought all of it at the deli inside the grocery store, but she didn't seem to notice the containers with price tags on them.
“Brownies?” she asked hopefully.
“After dinner.”
She stared at the spoons. “Where's a plate?”
“Didn't bring one. You can eat it just like that.”
She blinked. “Really?”
“Really. It won't spread germs. Just you and your dad eating it.”
Once she took a tentative taste of the mashed potatoes, her eyes lit up, and she dug in for more with a happy little squeal.
“So,” I leaned against the counter on my good side. My hands still trembled a little, but comforting Ava had an oddly soothing effect on me. “Want to tell me more about your day? Who had you in tears?”
She shook her head, her mouth full of corn.
“You don't want to talk about it?”
Her eyes widened to an alarming size. She shook her head more urgently now. “Fair,” I said as flashes of Dr. Jekyll Talmage flashed through my mind. “Sometimes it's hard to talk about bad days.”
She nodded again, then turned her attention to testing the corn. Like the potatoes, she dove in with gusto. Just as my phone buzzed with a text, a shuffle came from the far side of the room. A voice followed it.
“Ava? Sorry, I'm off the pho—Oh. Hey.”
My heart raced as Benjamin appeared, carrying a box. His startled expression was a little bit relieved. I forced a smile. Halfway across the room, he slowed. His eyes locked onto something. Maybe it was my posture. Maybe the bruising that had surely intensified on my face. My head throbbed like a wild thing as the adrenalin left me and I might be in a perma-grimace. Suddenly, I felt weak as a rag doll and gripped the cool counter beneath my hand.
Whatever clued him in, he'd taken full notice now.
“Sera?” he murmured quietly. His voice was thick with a question, and I saw a flash of the rage that had been there when he first saw my fat lip. I tilted my head slightly to Ava, then shook my head. He closed the last few steps between us and set the box aside.
His nostrils flared as he regarded me up close, but he reluctantly nodded a quiet assent to not talk about it yet. His gaze lingered on my cheek.
“Ava's had a rough day,” I said, “so I told her that if she had some dinner, she could have brownies.” My voice caught and I felt stupid for the rush of emotion that followed. Carefully, I swallowed it back. “Brownies fix every bad day,” I finished in a small voice.
Ava had another chomp of chicken, her feet swinging on the edge of the counter as she hummed to herself.
If possible, Benjamin's expression hardened even more.
“Of course they do,” he murmured in a silky voice. He didn't take his eyes off of me. “And how was your day?”
“Here.” I reached into my back pocket and handed him a folded pile of papers from the deputy that took Talmage away, as well as the initial receipt from the hotel. “This will answer most of your questions.”