“Certainly, Mr. Higgins.”
Rory did a double take. “How do you know who I am?”
“Drummer. Sketch Monsters. Big fan.”
Rory would have stood there all day taking in the compliment had I not dragged him away.
“This can’t be happening,” he said, shaking his head. “How does anyone outside of the arena know who I am?”
“This is only the beginning,” I said. Rory underestimated the interest his replacing Brandon had generated. He was on a collision course with fame, and I didn’t think he fully understood that yet.
Minutes later, we arrived at a familiar patch of sidewalk. Under the streetlights and against the tall, slick, black building was the place I’d first seen him drum. Where I’d instantly fallen in love. Someone else was there now, a woman playing a violin, performing right where Rory once had. He squeezed my hand tighter. I couldn’t imagine what this moment must be like for him, in the place where his two vastly different lives collided. If ever there was a déjà vu moment, it was now.
“Are you all right?”
“Yeah, it just hit me. Like really hit me. I can’t believe this was once me. How did I survive?”
“I honestly don’t know. You acted like it was no big deal, but I can’t imagine the bravery it must have taken to walk these streets alone every night.”
I stood quietly by his side while Rory lost himself in the memories. Several minutes passed before he let go of my hand to retrieve some money from his wallet and drop it in her violin case.
Returning to me, he asked, “Are you up for a walk? I want to show you something.”
Did he even need to ask? I would go anywhere with him even if it meant half jogging like I was now to keep up with his brisk pace. Rory routed us on lighted streets, but the further we went, the sketchier our surroundings got. He seemed to realize it too, his reflexes on full alert as his eyes scanned the perimeter. Old Rory was back.
“Are you sure this is safe?” I asked.
“No. But it’s just up ahead, and then we’ll get out of here, I promise.”
A block ahead, he stopped and pointed up at the sign.
Higgins Street. Um. Okay. Rory risked life and limb to take me here to show me a sign with his last name on it? I tried to summon up the required excitement.
“Same last name.” I nodded, humoring him.
He shook his head, his brows furrowed. “This is where they found me.”
My skin prickled at the ominous tone of his voice. “What do you mean? Who found you?”
“The police. I was two years old, wandering the streets barefoot in dirty, soiled pajamas.”
Tears jumped to my eyes. “Oh, Rory.”
“There was a search for my parents. My picture was in the news, but no one ever reported me missing. People called in from all over the world offering either tips or to adopt me, but because of my special circumstances, I lingered in foster care for years, waiting for someone to claim me. No one ever did. Finally, when I was eight years old, they cleared me for adoption. But by then I was too old, too disruptive, and my file was too bulky for anyone to want me.”
“You never discovered what happened to your parents?”
“When the police found me, I was caked in dirt and mud. It had rained the night before, and runoff water was flowing through a homeless encampment at the bottom of a dry concrete creek bed. It didn’t flood and wash people away, but it was enough to displace all the heavy drug users who lived there. They think I might have been separated from my mother somehow, and that given her probable drug use, she either didn’t or couldn’t come claim me.”
I nodded silently, encouraging his words to flow. It was the most he’d ever revealed to me, and I didn’t dare interrupt him now.
“When police asked my name, I guess I roared like an animal so they started called me Rory. Get it? And then I got slapped with Higgins for the street sign I was found under. So imaginative of them. Fitting, though. I was probably born on these streets, and up until you found me, I was probably going to die on them. You saved me.”
“Drumming saved you.”
“No. Before you…” Rory’s voice cracked. “I was invisible. People would gather around and watch me play. They’d drop money in my bucket. But they neversawme. And as soon as the music ended, they were gone. No one cared that I was struggling. They looked right past me like I didn’t matter. Like I didn’t exist. But not you, Grace. You looked me in the eye when no one else would. I have no idea what you saw in me that night on the sidewalk, but I think maybe I’d been sent my own personal angel. Once I understood that someone like you could love me, it changed my whole life. You saved me, Grace. In every way.”
* * *
