talk about. So, I’ve been sticking to my lie. I don’t remember anything. The truth is, I could never forget.
The smell of alcohol and mold fills every room in this house. I’ve only been here for a few days, but it feels like much longer, every second in this place feels like an eternity. This is supposed to be a home for children, a safe place for me, and the other foster children to stay. There is nothing safe about this place.
My stomach growls so loud it hurts. I haven’t eaten anything today, which is nothing out of the ordinary. I scour the kitchen for food, hoping that no one finds me. When I see the old granola bar wedged between empty cartons in the bottom of the pantry, I almost cry out in joy.
Grabbing the bar as fast as I can, I tuck it into the waistband of my jeans. However hungry I am, I know there is someone else here who needs food more than I do.
On tiptoes, I sneak up the stairs, avoiding the steps that I know creak. I go to the room at the end of the hallway, our room. Opening the door quietly, I hope not to wake him, but he still opens his eyes as much as he can to look at me as I enter the room. They’re only open a sliver, both eyes too swollen from the beating he took before I got here.
“Hey, William,” I whisper. Careful not to move the mattress too much, I crawl back into the spot beside him. “Found you some food. It’s not much, but it’s something.”
I hand him the granola bar, and he just stares at it for a long time. He’s barely talked to me since I arrived, and I’m not sure if it’s because he doesn’t want to or simply because he is in so much pain. He looks like he would be in a terrible amount of pain. His whole face is black and blue, swollen and scratched all over.
“You need to eat too,” he finally says, handing me back the bar.
“How about we share?” I ask while opening the plastic wrapper. He sighs as if he doesn’t want me to fight him on this, but then he still nods.
Taking out the bar, I break a piece off and hand it to him. Then I break an even tinier piece off for me and start nibbling on it. Most people would probably take less than thirty seconds to eat this, but we take our time. Enjoying every morsel, chewing until there is nothing left. Swallowing until each bit heavily lands in our empty stomachs.
When we’re done, I hide the wrapper underneath the mattress and lie down next to him. The house is eerily quiet, which is not a good thing, maybe the calm before the storm. I close my eyes and feel around between our bodies until I find his hand. I grab it and revel in the feeling of his fingers intertwined with mine. Then I say a silent prayer, hoping that no one will come into our room tonight.
6
No matter what I do, I can’t stop staring at the picture from the envelope. I don’t understand why Christian would want Dove dead… how did she possibly end up on his list? Is he on to me? Watching me? Watching Dove?
I’ve grown more and more agitated over the last twenty-four hours. It has to be because of me. I just don’t see why else she could be a target, but if it is because of me, why give me the job? Is it a test? Is he making me choose between him and her? Because no matter what, I’m always going to choose Dove.
Grinding my teeth together so hard it hurts, I look at the screen of my phone that shows me her apartment. She’s sitting on the couch, curled up with a book. Not the slightest idea of the danger she is in and how drastically her life is about to change.
My head hurts from thinking about all of this. No matter how much I dig through my mind, I can’t seem to find a single clear-cut answer. I better get my shit together fast because I only have three days to figure everything out.
It’d taken everything in me not to kidnap her last night and take her to the safe house I’ve prepared for a situation like this. I always feared that it would come to this, I