She crouched down and found a greasy, stale-smelling Burger King bag lying flat with the remnants of a burger on it. Barbecue sauce had smeared and dried on the bag.
So she was right: it had been a raccoon.
Great.
She grabbed the mess and stood to toss it, when a grubby arm snaked out and cold fingers latched onto her wrist.
“Hey, that’s mine.”
She dropped the bag and leapt back, breaking the grip the young boy had on her arm. He crouched in the dark, only the whites of his wide eyes visible. His expression of defiance was tinged with fear.
“I’m sorry,” she said as it sank in that this child was alone and eating out of the dumpster.
He shrank back into the shadows, clutching the bag to his skinny chest.
“It’s okay; you don’t need to be afraid of me,” Brynn said as she crouched down to eye level with him.
“I’m not afraid,” he said.
She smiled. “Of course not.”
When he jutted his chin forward, the glow from the broken lamp shone on his dirt-streaked face. He looked to be eleven or twelve, judging by his lanky frame. Who knows when he’d last had a shower.
Or a real meal.
Her heart broke at the thought. Had someone discarded this child, as though he were yesterday’s trash?
“Where are your parents?”
He snorted, and shoved a piece of stale bread into his mouth. “Does it matter? They don’t care about me anyway.”
“You can get hurt out here.” Everything she said sounded trite, even to her own ears.
“I got hurt all the time with my father. I’ll take my chances.”
“How long have you been here?”
He shrugged, shoved the rest of the meat and lettuce into his mouth, and mumbled around his food. “Why do you care? A few weeks, maybe.”
Goosebumps rose on her skin. “You were here, in this very spot?” she said, pointing to the ground.
“Yeah, why?” he asked, eyes narrowed.
“Did you see what happened here last week?”
His mouth pressed into a thin line and he glanced away. The hardened exterior evaporated, leaving a shivering little boy in its wake.
She stretched a tentative hand toward his bony shoulder, torn about asking him anything. “You did see, didn’t you?”
He stared at the dumpster but gave a quick, hard nod of affirmation.
The information was right there, right at her fingertips in the form of a terrified child, likely abused, cold, and helpless.
Dammit.
She couldn’t just leave him there.And she sure as hell would put his well-being before gathering information, but she could take him home, get him cleaned up, give him real food and a warm place to sleep while she called the authorities and they made arrangements for him.
If he happened to share with her in the time it took to do all that, perfect.
