Chapter 2
Donna moved before anyone understood what the boy had said.
Her hand shot toward the locket.
“Give me that.”
The boy jerked backward.
“No.”
It was the first time his voice had sounded strong.
Donna’s eyes changed.
Not angry anymore.
Afraid.
“Give it to me!”
She lunged.
I dropped the coffee pot.
It shattered against the tile.
Hot coffee spread across the floor.
The boy stumbled toward me, clutching the locket against his chest.
I stepped between them.
“Donna, stop.”
“Move, Claire.”
“No.”
Her stare cut through me.
I had worked for Donna nearly four years.
I had watched her scream at cooks.
Fire waitresses over five-dollar mistakes.
Throw plates into the sink when customers complained.
But I had never seen her scared.
Not until that photograph.
The man from the counter came closer.
“You touch that kid again, I’m calling the police.”
Donna spun toward him.
“This is my restaurant.”
“And assault is still assault.”
The woman by the window already had her phone out.
“I recorded what you did.”
Donna stared at the phone.
For one terrible second, nobody moved.
Then she smiled.
It was forced.
Ugly.
“Everybody is overreacting.”
The boy pressed himself against my side.
I felt him trembling.
Donna noticed.
“Claire, take him into the kitchen.”
I looked at her.
“What?”
“Feed him.”
The sudden kindness sounded worse than the cruelty.
The boy whispered, “I have to go.”
I looked down.
“Where’s your mom?”
His lips tightened.
“She’s sick.”
“Where?”
He hesitated.
Donna leaned closer.
“Yes. Where?”
The boy immediately stepped behind me.
That answered enough.
I turned toward Donna.
“Why do you care?”
Her jaw flexed.
“I don’t.”
“You recognized his mother.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“You almost jumped over the counter for that necklace.”
“It looks stolen.”
The boy’s face twisted.
“My mom gave it to me!”
Donna pointed at him.
“Exactly what thieves say.”
I felt anger rise in my chest.
“Enough.”
Her eyes snapped to mine.
“You want your job tomorrow?”
I untied my apron.
“No.”
The room went silent again.
I tossed it on the counter.
Donna blinked.
“You’re quitting over some street kid?”
“No.”
I looked at the boy’s scraped elbow.
“I’m quitting because I finally saw exactly what kind of person I’ve been working for.”
Her face hardened.
“You’ll regret that.”
“Maybe.”
I crouched beside the boy.
“What’s your name?”
“Eli.”
“I’m Claire.”
“I know.”
That caught me off guard.
“How?”
His eyes flicked toward my name tag.
“Oh.”
For the first time, the edge of his mouth almost moved.
Then Donna said, “Eli what?”
The tiny almost-smile disappeared.
He shook his head.
“I need to go.”
“Wait,” I said. “Your mom needs food, right?”
He nodded.
I grabbed two meat pies from the warming case.
Donna slapped my hand away.
“You’re stealing.”
I pulled twenty-four dollars from my pocket and threw it beside the register.
“Paid.”
Then I grabbed two bottles of water.
Another five dollars.
Donna didn’t stop me this time.
She was still staring at Eli’s locket.
I put everything in a paper bag.
“Let me walk you home.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“My mom says strangers aren’t safe.”
“Your mom is smart.”
He glanced at Donna.
“Especially strangers who know her.”
Donna flinched.
I saw it.
So did the man at the counter.
He stepped closer.
“What’s going on here?”
Donna snapped, “Nothing.”
Eli looked toward the door.
“I have to leave.”
I handed him the bag.
“At least let me make sure you get outside safely.”
He nodded.
We started toward the door.
Donna called behind us.
“Eli.”
He stopped.
I wished he hadn’t.
Donna’s voice became strangely soft.
“Is your mother’s name Rachel?”
The bag slipped from his hands.
One pie hit the floor.
Eli’s face went completely white.
Donna whispered, “My God.”
Eli ran.
He shot through the door and onto the sidewalk.
“Eli!”
I raced after him.
Behind me, Donna shouted something.
I couldn’t hear it.
Traffic roared along the avenue.
Eli darted between pedestrians.
He was fast.
Too fast for a child who looked half-starved.
I followed him past the pharmacy.
Past the bus shelter.
Down an alley beside a boarded-up laundromat.
“Eli, stop!”
He disappeared around the corner.
When I reached it, he was gone.
I stood there breathless.
Three exits.
A parking lot.
Another alley.
An elevated train rumbling overhead.
No Eli.
Then I heard coughing.
Not his.
A woman.
Weak.
Deep.
Coming from behind an old delivery truck.
I moved slowly.
“Hello?”
Silence.
Then the cough came again.
I stepped around the truck.
A woman was sitting on a flattened cardboard box between the brick wall and a dumpster.
Eli knelt beside her.
He was tearing pieces from the surviving meat pie and putting them into her hands.
The woman looked maybe thirty.
But hunger had made her older.
Her cheeks were hollow.
Her blond hair was dirty and pulled into a loose knot.
A faded coat covered her shoulders.
She looked up at me.
And my heart stopped.
I knew her face.
Not personally.
From somewhere else.
Somewhere impossible.
Eli stood.
“You followed me.”
“I was worried.”
His mother gripped his arm.
“Who is she?”
“She works at the diner.”
Her eyes filled with terror.
“What diner?”
I told her the name.
She tried to stand so fast she almost fell.
“No.”
Eli caught her.
“Mom.”
“We have to go.”
“You can barely stand.”
“We have to go now.”
I crouched several feet away so I wouldn’t scare her.
“Donna recognized you.”
Rachel closed her eyes.
A tear slid down one cheek.
“I knew this would happen.”
“Who is Donna?”
Rachel looked at me.
For several seconds, she said nothing.
Then she asked, “Did she see the locket?”
“Yes.”
Rachel grabbed Eli’s shirt.
“You showed it?”
“I had to, Mom. You needed food.”
“I told you only if—”
“We were starving.”
His voice broke.
Rachel stopped.
She pulled him against her.
“Oh, baby.”
He started crying.
“I’m sorry.”
“No. No, you did nothing wrong.”
I watched them hold each other.
Something about it hurt.
Maybe because I had spent years believing terrible people looked terrible.
Donna didn’t.
She wore pearl earrings.
Went to church every Sunday.
Sent Christmas baskets to local businesses.
Smiled for charity photos.
And somewhere in this alley, a sick woman was terrified because Donna had seen her face.
“Rachel,” I said gently, “what did Donna do to you?”
Her head lifted.
“You don’t want to know.”
“I think I do.”
“No.”
“She assaulted your son.”
Rachel’s expression changed.
“She touched Eli?”
“She shoved him.”
Rachel pushed herself upright.
Her knees nearly gave out.
“What did she do?”
Eli grabbed her hand.
“I’m okay.”
“No, you’re not.”
She saw his elbow.
The scrape.
The swelling.
Rage flashed across her exhausted face.
Then fear crushed it.
“We need to leave Chicago.”
“With what money?” Eli asked.
Rachel looked away.
That tiny moment told me everything.
They had nowhere to go.
I reached for my phone.
“I can get you a motel room.”
Rachel recoiled.
“No police.”
“I didn’t say police.”
“No hospitals either.”
“You’re sick.”
“I said no.”
“Why?”
“Because people ask for names.”
I stared at her.
“What are you hiding from?”
She looked past me, toward the street.
“Not what.”
“Who?”
Her eyes returned to mine.
“Donna.”
A car door slammed nearby.
Rachel froze.
Footsteps entered the alley.
Slow.
Heavy.
Eli grabbed the locket.
I turned.
Donna appeared around the corner.
But she wasn’t alone.
A tall man in a gray coat walked beside her.
Donna pointed straight at Rachel.
“There she is.”
Rachel made a sound I will never forget.
Not a scream.
Something smaller.
Something that came from a person whose worst nightmare had just found her.
She pushed Eli behind her.
The man stared at Rachel.
Then at the boy.
His expression cracked.
“Rachel?”
Rachel backed against the wall.
“Stay away from us.”
Eli looked up.
“Mom, who is he?”
The man’s eyes filled with tears.
Rachel whispered, “Nobody.”
But Donna smiled.
“No, Rachel.”
Her smile widened.
“Tell him.”
The man took one step forward.
Rachel shook her head violently.
May you like
Donna looked at Eli.
“That man is your father.”
