A black SUV comes into view, dark windows reflecting nothing back at me. The space between us doesn’t close, but it doesn’t widen either, and the longer it stays there, the colder my blood runs.
A right turn appears, and I take it. So does the SUV.
My nerves buzz through me, fear blooming and dragging memories up from places I keep locked down. Barrett’s face flashes through my mind, then Eli’s. Men I’ve fought like hell to stay invisible from.
But what if they’ve finally found me? What if all the careful choices, all the years of staying small and quiet, didn’t matter at all?
Another turn. Then another. The SUV stays with me.
Oh my God. It’s them. They’re gonna kill me.
Dreads clogs up my throat, and Milo flashes before my eyes like he’s here with me. His laughter and the way he’d tell me he loves me tear at my heart.
I can’t die. Not when my baby needs me.
My breathing turns shallow as the road blurs, panic clawing higher while my thoughts scatter. I can’t even speed. Drawing attention would make everything worse. I may have a new identity, but the cops could still run my prints, and then they’d find out about Eden.
I just need to survive whatever is about to happen. Then I’ll worry about saving enough money so I can take Milo from school and run.
The SUV’s headlights fill my mirror, closer now, as my past presses in from all sides.
When I first met Barrett, I thought my life would finally be good. That I’d have a family who cared.
But I was dead wrong.
AGE THIRTEEN
The pavement is still warm under my bare feet, the skin on mycheek throbbing where my mother’s hand landed. Hunger hits my stomach while I keep replaying the fridge door opening, how I was about to grab the leftover pasta until my mother snatched the container out of my hands.
Rotten girls don’t get to eat, she’d said. If I wanted food, I could go get a job.
My sister wasn’t home. But she’s never home much these days. She’s twenty and way cooler than me. She’s probably at her boyfriend’s house.
I wish I was an adult like her. Katherine doesn’t have to deal with Mom and Dad much anymore. Lucky her.
I lower onto a bench by the grocery store, embarrassed as people walk by and give me pity-filled looks when they glance at my bare feet. I would’ve gotten my shoes before I ran out of the house, but my mother was being crazy, cursing at me and hitting me for trying to eat her food, so I did what I always do and left. Just without shoes this time—which, in hindsight, was a very bad idea.
I don’t know what I did to make her hate me. I try to be good, but sometimes maybe I’m not. I don’t do good in school or have many friends, but I don’t do drugs or drink like Dad does.
My stomach growls, reminding me that I haven’t eaten since breakfast at school. I would’ve had lunch, but Sophia spilled milk all over my food on purpose and I didn’t have any money to buy a second lunch. They don’t give us free seconds.
The street stretches out in front of me, empty except for a girl coming out of a car. She’s around Katherine’s age, and pretty too. She looks me up and down as she approaches the store, her brown eyes narrowing.
“You okay, kid?” she asks. “Need help?”
The words catch me off guard. No one ever asks if I need help. I’m always on my own. My mouth opens, but nothing comes out, so I shrug, trying to look like I’m not about to cry.
She digs into her bag and holds out a large KitKat bar. “Here.”
The wrapper crinkles when I take it, my fingers clumsy as I peel it open, desperate to put anything in my stomach. The first bite makes my eyes sting, sugar and relief hitting all at once, and I turn my face away so she doesn’t see.
“I’m Jess.” She drops down beside me like we’ve known each other longer than two minutes.
We sit there for a while, cars passing without slowing. She tells me about the place where she stays, about the people she lives with and how they look out for each other. Truthfully, it sounds too good to be true.
Then she asks, “You wanna come check it out and hang for a bit? It’s better than sitting out here with no shoes on.” She pops a brow, a smile forming.
I probably shouldn’t go, but I’m cold and I don’t wanna be out here anymore. My head tips forward and I nod before I can talk myself out of it.
