Page 2 of Forever a Thief

What am I going to do?

Shock and sadness pour through me. I have no relatives, nowhere to go.

“I know this is scary, and the innkeeper wanted me to tell you, the moment you’re old enough, you can come work for him.” She’s wringing her hands, clearly uncomfortable, trying to stay positive.

In this moment, I don’t think I’ll ever be positive again. I just lost the only person who matters. “I’m only twelve,” I whisper.

“Well, sure, right now,” she falters. “You’ll have to live with, ah, a foster family for a while. But in a few years, you’ll have a job all lined up, so that’s good to know, right?”

“A job that killed ma mère?” I ask flatly.

“Your mom worked very hard—”

“I’m not going to end up like her.” Tears slide down my cheeks and I swipe them away. “And I’m not living with a foster family.”

“Rhys—”

Panic floods through me as everything I’ve ever known starts to slip away. “No!” I yell, backing away and heading for the stairs. “You can’t make me live with strangers! I live here! This is my home!”

My feet pound up the steps and I race into my room, slamming and locking the door behind me. I don’t know how to process such an incredible loss, and I crumple down to the floor and curl up into a tight ball, sobs racking my small frame.

How can she be gone? Who is going to cook me dinner and tuck me in at night and call me Rye? Who is going to remind me to put my dirty clothes in the hamper and to make my bed? Who is going to love me?

She was the only one.

And now she’s gone.

I don’t think my heart could hurt more than it does at this moment.

I’m not sure how long I cry, but eventually I crawl into my bed, still in my damp clothes, and fall asleep. I dream of Maman, and she tells me how much she loves me and how proud she is of me. For a while, it’s like she’s still here, but then I wake up. And my beautiful dream becomes a nightmare.

Slipping out of bed, still wearing the same clothes that got soaked in yesterday’s rain, I wander through the little house. It doesn’t take me long to realize it isn’t the same without her presence. Without her smiles and laughter. Now it’s just a place filled with things and no tether to love or the life I knew. It feels… empty.

It’s no longer home.

“I’m leaving.” Even though I say the words to no one but myself, I infuse as much confidence as I can into my voice. The sad truth is, without Maman, there’s nothing left in this town for me.

A plan begins to form in my mind as I throw some things into a backpack. Then I go into Maman’s bedroom and take the small amount of money she’d saved and stashed in her top dresser drawer. It’s not much, but it’ll get me to where I’m going.

Vowing not to cry, I reach for the picture of us and open the small frame, plucking the photo out. Maman looked so pretty that day as we ate a picnic lunch along the river. And I’ll never forget what she said after I told her how that boy at school had said such mean things.

“You can be whoever you want to be, Rye. Never let anyone label you or make you feel less than. It doesn’t matter what other people say or think. Let them be small and petty, while you do great things.”

I carefully tuck the picture between a couple of shirts and zip up my backpack.

I’m not going to live with a foster family.

I’m not going to work a dead end job.

“I’m going to Paris,” I announce, trying to sound brave. And I’ll do whatever I have to do in order to survive. Survive and thrive.

Slinging my backpack over a shoulder, I take one last look at our house. The curtains Maman sewed, the worn plaid couch she made cozy with pillows, the small breakfast table where we ate our meals together every day. “I’m going to do great things, Maman,” I whisper. Then I walk out, leaving the only home I’ve ever known.

Chapter One: Laurent

Present Day...

The job came in like any other. A discreet phone call from a private collector who decided he wanted to get his hands on something valuable. I was about to open a bottle of fine French wine and enjoy the ocean view from my patio at the renowned Hotel del Coronado here in San Diego, but then decided why the hell not?