Then there were the memories she wouldn’t let herself think about, memories of the biggest mistake she’d ever made.
Men were dangerous, you see.
So the Orphan Girl always kept her eyes down on her Bible. At the end of each meeting, it was her job to gather up all the handouts that had been left behind.
On her third visit to the prison, the Orphan Girl noticed that someone had made a detailed drawing on one of the printouts. When she examined it more closely, she saw it wasn’t just any drawing.
It was a sketch ofher.
Someone had drawn her from the shoulders up, wearing her black tunic, her head, neck, and hair covered by her coif. Her expression was serene and downcast, only the faintest hint of light showing in her eyes.
The drawing didn’t take any liberties. It didn’t capture anything that couldn’t have been easily observed by any one of the men. It shouldn’t have felt as deeply personal as it did. But the fact that someone had observed her so closely rattled the Orphan Girl. Whoever the prisoner was who had drawn this, he was a skilled artist. He’d only used what appeared to be a basic pencil, but she recognized her own expression, the slight tilt to her head, the way she tucked her chin slightly under. Her long, naturally dark lashes and the curve of her mouth. The shadows from the light overhead, playing out across her features.
The Orphan Girl threw the picture away. She always regretted that afterward, but in the moment, she worried it would be vain to keep it.
When they met with the prisoners the next week, though, the Orphan Girl circumspectly cast her eyes around the room as Sister Theresa took everyone through a reading of Psalms. Everyone was looking down at their printouts of the verses.
One pair of eyes, though, was focused on her.
The Orphan Girl had never seen eyes like those before, and she hadn’t since. They were pale sage green, with just the slightest hint of hazel in them. And they were watching her so closely, as if tracing every faint shift of her expression.
The Thief’s face was beautiful—there was no other way to describe it. The Orphan Girl had never thought of a man as being beautiful before, but he was. His dark blond hair was buzzed down almost to the scalp, which only intensified the symmetry of his face—his strong jaw and sculpted nose. He had a tattoo of what looked like a dragon climbing up his neck from underneath the collar of his shirt, which should have made him look dangerous, maybe a little scary; but this roughness was contrasted sharply with his lips, surprisingly full for a man’s, plush and soft looking.
When their gazes met, the Orphan Girl felt like someone had turned on all the lights in her body. She quickly looked away, back down at the Bible, her hands shaking under the table.
She didn’t dare look up again for the rest of the meeting. But afterward, when the Orphan Girl went to gather the handouts, she saw another sketched version of herself waiting. This time, she was looking up and straight ahead. The way theThief had drawn her, it was as though her dark eyes were staring straight off the page, gazing out at her. And at him, as he’d drawn her.
The Orphan Girl felt a complicated series of emotions in response. A thrill at being singled out, at beingseen. Followed by an immediate sense of shame, because she was so susceptible to vanity. Then worry, because vanity could be a very slippery slope into far worse sin, as she’d learned once before. Then guilt, because she ought to tell someone what was happening. Then more guilt, because she didn’twantto say anything, because she knew that then it would stop. No more drawings, no more Thief.
So the Orphan Girl didn’t say anything. (Lying by omission.)
That silence opened a door between her and the Thief, and in the weeks that followed, the sketches kept coming. Sometimes he would write her messages—short little notes, mostly, that could have been for anyone, but she knew they were for her.
My name is Cass.
I like your smile.
Your eyes are incredible.
I could draw your face for the rest of my life and never get bored.
The Orphan Girl started to pay more attention to the Thief in their weekly meetings, doing so as subtly as she could, so no one else would notice. She tried not to lethimnotice, either, but whenever he caught her watching, he would smile at the Orphan Girl, and it would send her heart into a gallop.
Made you look, he’d write to her when that happened.
But the Orphan Girl noticed things about the Thief, too, that he probably would have been just as surprised to learn. The way the other men interacted with him, and the guards, too. They sometimes teased him about being so good-looking. The Orphan Girl guessed that’s where his name probably came from—Cass, short for Cassanova, because he was so charming. She worried that meant he had lots of women writing to him, visiting him, maybe even waiting for him on the outside. He must have noticed that, too, because one day he wrote her a simple message:
I only have eyes for you.
On that day, he only drew the Orphan Girl’seyes, nothing else, staring out from the page. There was such an intense expression in them, a mixture of hope, of worry, of longing, of fear. She didn’t know how he managed to capture all of those feelings in nothing but a pair of eyes, but she saw them all there. She saw exactly how he sawher.
These silent exchanges of details and shared looks and scattered words went on for weeks and weeks. It all added up to a bunch of nothings, but it began to feel like everything to the Orphan Girl. It was the only thing she had to look forward to all week long. It was the only time she felt like she wasn’t invisible.
No, that wasn’t entirely right. Her whole life, people had commented on what a pretty girl she was, then what a beautiful woman, but that kind of praise had always made her feel uncomfortable. She didn’t want most people to notice her or single her out. It felt like they only did so because they wanted to take something from her.
With the Thief, though, it didn’t feel that way. It felt like he was giving her something by noticing all those little things about her.
It was the first time the Orphan Girl wanted to be seen.
