“How long ago was that?”
“Over a year ago. Before you met her.”
I picked up another book. The messages were similar. Warnings to herself. Locations of her notes.
“Do you know if Ava took meds for her seizures?”
“Not that I ever saw. But that doesn’t mean anything. I only saw the child when she was outside.”
“When we met in the hospital, Ava told me she thought her mother wanted to keep her from knowing about her old self. It was her way of making sure she didn’t have bad influences.”
Grandma Flowers shook her head. “Seems like the worst influence is her own kin.”
I could agree with that. “Even if I find her, she may not remember anything from when we knew her. She could be so lost.”
“I imagine if anybody can help her, you can. What are you going to do next?”
“I’m going back to the hospital where we met. If she ends up in an emergency room and still knows her name, they’ll get her records from there. I went there when she first left, so I know the staff won’t tell me anything about her, but I can make sure they know I’m looking for her.”
“Good thinking. You keep on doing that and you’ll find her.”
I left my number with Grandma Flowers and set about searching all over again. Now that Ava was eighteen, maybe I could make more headway.
CHAPTER 19
Ava
Every car that passed as I walked along the road made my fear rise another notch. I hurried along the highway that Mother and I drove to go to the grocery store. When I made it to the tangle of streets and houses and stores, I relaxed. Mother would wake up soon, but I needed to talk to Frank at the grocery store.
I had a job there, and he would pay me money. Maybe if I started working today instead of Monday, I could get money right away to buy food.
It was a terrible idea, since Mother would look for me there. But it was the only idea I had.
The store was quiet at this early hour, so I went straight to the customer service desk.
It was closed. A sign on the counter said it would open at 8 a.m.
What time was it now? I had no idea.
A boy who seemed close to my age approached the counter, pushing a stack of boxes on a rolling cart.Stocker. Maybe I could learn something from him. He seemedfriendly, a flop of hair falling over his forehead. He wore the red Shelfmart shirt.
I reached out a hand to stop him. “I’m about to start working here. I was hoping someone could walk me around.”
He shrugged. “Sure. What are you going to be doing? Cashier?”
“Stocker.”
He had wires hanging out of his ears, but he took them out and stuck them in his pocket. I wondered what they did.
So much to learn.
“You must be replacing Phil,” he said.
“I’m not sure,” I said carefully. “I talked to the manager yesterday.”
“Justine or Frank?” he asked.
“Frank,” I said.
