Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 60978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
“I swear to you, Eliza,” Hannah promised. “All of us will make sure Lily is as happy and carefree as we can possibly make her. No matter what.”
As Hannah and Lana moved back toward the stairs, I lingered in the doorway. Eliza turned to look at me, her exhaustion written in the shadows beneath her eyes.
“Thank you,” she said simply.
“No need,” I replied, uncomfortable with her gratitude. “Get some rest. I’ll be around if you need anything. You have my number. Use it. For anything.”
She nodded, her gaze returning to the inside window where she could see Lily playing below with the other children inside the main room. The tension in her face softened slightly at the sight of her daughter smiling for what might have been the first time in days.
I moved away from the door, giving her the privacy she needed. As I descended the stairs, I couldn’t shake the feeling I was leaving something important behind. Every instinct told me to stay close, to protect them from whatever might come next. The strength of my feelings troubled me as I headed back to the compound. All I’d wanted when I’d first met Lily was to see her happy and to not be in pain. Now, the image of Eliza standing alone in the room, shoulders squared against everyone who’d failed her, lingered in my mind long after I’d left Haven and gone back to my own apartment at the compound.
* * *
I checked my watch as I pushed through the security door of Haven four days later. My shift patrolling the perimeter wouldn’t start for another hour, but I found myself drawn to the building more often than necessary lately. The atmosphere inside had shifted since I’d last visited two days ago. Voices and laughter spilled from the communal kitchen, a change from the usual quiet caution hanging over the place. Children darted through the hallway, their feet pattering against the concrete floor as they carried construction paper and markers toward the common area. The smell of fresh coffee and some kind of sugary goodness baking filled the air. I followed the sounds to find Eliza standing on a chair in the kitchen, pinning colorful hand-drawn flyers to the bulletin board, her movements more fluid than I remembered, as if some of the weight had lifted from her shoulders.
“A little higher on the left,” one of the resident mothers called from below, pointing at something on the bulletin board. “Perfect!”
Eliza adjusted the paper, securing it with another thumbtack before climbing down. Her hair hung in a loose ponytail, wisps framing her face. The dark circles under her eyes had faded slightly, and though caution still lined her movements, she moved with growing confidence through the kitchen space.
She hadn’t noticed me yet, giving me a rare moment to observe her without her guarded expression sliding into place. The flyers announced “Kids Karaoke Night” in bright bubble letters, decorated with music notes and stars drawn in different hands. Some clearly belonged to the children, others showed the practiced precision of adult work.
“Cash!” Lily’s voice rang out as she spotted me from across the room. She broke away from a group of children coloring at the table and hurried toward me, her immobilized arm no longer seeming to slow her down as much. The pink cast on her other arm had collected signatures and drawings from her new friends in both Haven and the kids living at Kiss of Death, transforming the medical necessity into something almost cheerful.
Eliza turned at her daughter’s voice, her gaze finding mine. For a moment, I caught a glimpse of her unguarded expression before it disappeared behind her usual careful smile.
“You came!” Lily beamed up at me. “Are you going to sing at karaoke tonight? I know you sing good.”
I raised an eyebrow at Eliza, who busied herself with straightening the already-aligned flyers on the bulletin board. “I’m not much for performing these days, kid,” I replied, crouching down to Lily’s level. “How’s the shoulder feeling?”
“Better,” she reported seriously. “Mom does the exercises with me the doctor showed us. And Hannah made me a special pillow to help me sleep without hurting it.”
Eliza moved toward us, wiping her hands on her jeans. “The specialist called this morning,” she said quietly. “We have an appointment next week. They’re expediting everything because of…” She glanced down at Lily, clearly not wanting to mention the social services case in front of her daughter.
I nodded, understanding. “Lana’s good at making things happen. She’ll go with you.”
“We’re having karaoke tonight,” Lily informed me, bouncing slightly on her toes. “Mom used to sing at a bar when she was younger. She’s teaching us all how to use the microphone right.”
This new piece of information about Eliza caught me by surprise. I looked at her with renewed curiosity. “Is that right?”