Just then, he starts to turn. My ears ring as I duck low, grab the shard of glass that slid from my reach during the ride, and army crawl toward the opposite end of the truck. Before I make it halfway, he’s unhooking the tarp.
I wince, bracing myself. Ready to jet even though I know I don’t stand a chance.
“Harry! Is that you?”
The man pushes a button on his phone and swings back around, facing what I’m guessing is a house, and he lets out a curse. I sag in relief when he walks toward the woman’s voice.
My heart races against my rib cage.
This is it.
My ride’s over. I need to disappear before I lose my chance.
I shut my eyes, curl my fingers around the shard of glass, and count to three like Mom used to. Tricking myself into believing that’s enough time to buy myself strength.
One, two ...three.
Nausea washes over me as I shimmy the rest of the way past the furniture and sit up too fast. My eyes dart around the suburban neighborhood. I slink off the tailgate, and I’m about to race around the truck when a sudden inclination stops me.Hunger. Desperation. Black dots spot my vision as I scamper toward the passenger window, peering through. It’s dark, but two bags on the front seat catch my eye. I stare at them. A duffle bag and a paper lunch bag. They might be nothing ... or there could be a wallet. Food. A pang slams against my stomach at the thought. Distant voices hit my ears, and that’s all it takes to spur me into action. I pull the door open.
“What the hell? Hey!”
My body jerks at the man’s bark, but I manage to snatch the grease-smeared paper bag, a jacket draped over the leather seat, and a water bottle off the floorboard.
“Stop!” His voice is closer now.
Forgetting the other bag, I tighten my grip on what I have and stumble away from the truck, ignoring my screaming bones as I make a run for it.
“Hey, you! Little girl! Get back here!”
Alarm rings through me in waves, but relief sneaks in when I realize his voice is getting farther and farther with each weak push of my legs.
Don’t look back.
Like he said, I’m just a little girl. A nuisance. All I can do is run and hope he doesn’t think I’m worth the trouble.
I don’t know how far I’ve run when the stolen items almost slip from my sweaty grip, but the houses blurring by get bigger and fancier. My breath burns with each inhale, and the black spots floating in my vision force me to slow. My knees buckle as I duck beside a house, staggering deeper and deeper onto someone’s property. I hit a wall, collapse against it, and slide to the ground. Plush, wet grass eases my fall.
For a few painful moments, I can’t breathe. My lungs are too dry, too tight.
I’m okay.
I’m okay.
I’m okay.
Liar, liar, liar.
My new mantra blares in my ears. Finally, when my breathing is under control and I can open my eyes without blacking out, I look down at the paper bag.
When I open it, the pungent smell of burgers and french fries makes saliva pool in my mouth. I plunge my hand inside, retrieving a giant burger, and my fingers shake with hunger as I bring it to my lips. I don’t care that a stranger has already eaten some of it—I shove the entire thing down my throat, then reach for the half-empty water bottle at my feet and chug most of it. The water is heaven as it settles in my stomach. When I reach back into the bag for the fries, I feel cool coins in my grasp.
Money? Could I be so lucky?
Eager to find out, I dump the bag’s contents, watching fries pile onto the grass. Two coins spill out, followed by three one-dollar bills. It’s barely enough to get me another fast-food meal, but then, I’m too desperate to be picky.
I jump and snap my eyes across the lawn when a light flicks on through the house’s window, illuminating the kitchen. As a figure blurs through the room, a cold feeling chases away any thread of hope the money brought.
I shouldn’t be here. This is too close.
