In the morning light I tidy up and make breakfast for us both. Scrambled eggs, toast, coffee, and a smile as Sophie wanders through already dressed in jeans and a hoody, with sneakers. Her hair in a boyish ponytail. She’s an early riser like me.

She sits awkwardly at the table as though she feels like she should be helping, but I brush it away with a warm beam and put her plate and mug in front of her. I genuinely like the girl; even in such a brief time, there’s something about her. I sit down to face her and let her eat for a few minutes whereas I can only pick at mine. My appetite is gone knowing we’re going to see my mother this morning. Teenage anxiety in full force.

“So, Sophie, tell me about you … How did you end up here in Sunnyside?” I keep my tone bright and easy knowing if she’s as guarded a person as me, then she will never open up if I don’t tread carefully. She hesitates.

“I ran away from home … I had enough money to get on a bus and I just chose the first one … It brought me here, and I found the homeless shelter.” She avoids looking at me while she speaks, the telltale tinge of color high on her cheeks. She’s trying to sound nonchalant, but her body language gives her away. Her fork rattles lightly showing her hands are trembling.

“Who, or what, were you running from?” I coax gently, lifting my mug and sipping slowly. Trying not to stare, trying to act like I’m engrossed in my mug instead. I used to hate coffee, but somehow Jake, like he does with everything else, got me used to it. It reminds me of him.

“My dad …” She flushes, fully red in the face and shifts in her chair. I bite my lip, holding back the feeling that rises inside of me; a deep heavy pit of sadness for this girl as I click on why that might be. Showing too much emotion will make her clam up but showing any form of sympathy will only bring her walls up fast.

“Physical or sexual?” I can almost see into her soul instantly and I can’t tear my gaze from her. I can sense that she doesn’t want to shut me out, even though it’s hard for her to say the words. She’s offering me a slight insight although she shudders. I hit the nail on the head.

“Both.” A single tear edges its way out from her eye, and she brushes it away, tightening her face, reigning in the pain, and replacing it with a defiant look. She’s like a mirror image to my teen Emma and seeing it on someone else for the first time causes me so much conflict. My heart breaks for her.

what Jake sees when I let him in, only to close that door? Do I do that? Look hopeless

thought away and

you?” I probe gently, trying to feel out the situation and not pondering on

She gave me what money she had so I could get far away from him.” She still can’t make eye contact and the rage inside of me swells on her behalf. A mother just like mine, yet she had the misfortune to fall into the lap of another, who would never protect

on, wanting to know if she has tied

enrolled me in school, but we never really decided on how long I would stay; indefinitely, I guess. I don’t have anywhere else to go so until I finish school I ‘ll be here.” She sips her coffee and comes to glance back at me, full on wide-eyed mistrust. A deep weight hits low in my stomach, knowing that for the foreseeable future she will be in my mother’s life, under

She’s not the protector and carer that she pretends to be … This … Incident … It’s not a one-off.” I want her to understand that staying here will not benefit her in any way. Her eyes flick to me

have friends who work with abused children who can find you a better life than this.” I lock eyes sincerely, knowing I can’t let the circle of

or foster home and protect her. Jake would do that for me. I know

kind to me and gave me a room here, instead of at the shelter.” She protests with wide eyes, dropping her fork

determined response. Emma shining through, that need to protect her, make excuses, the guilt at leaving her. She really has woven her pathetic spell over this girl, just as she had done to me all those years. I sigh dejectedly;

but she will stand by and let them and do nothing to protect you. She’ll look at you like you’re to blame when she loses another precious man who can’t keep his hands to himself.” I realize as my eyes fill with emotion that this girl is probably the first person in the world that I’ve opened up to in this way,

I swear, I will.

recognize each other’s pain. Recognizing a fellow sufferer who understands. She nods as a tear silently slides down her adorable face. There’s wetness on my own cheek as quenched emotion slides out and it surprises me. She tightens her fingers into mine, that small gesture, an instant bond between young teen Emma and mature adult Emma. I can see myself in her eyes, and

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