Get your lazy ass up!
She heard the voice clearly inside her head. A woman’s voice, harsh and raspy. Mother? Yeah, yeah, mother, because the face started to come clear, too.
She didn’t want to hear it, see it, so she just blocked it out.
Because she could stay here now, Sebastian said so, and nobody seemed to care if she remained in bed awhile in the morning. He could be—sort of—her father, couldn’t he? As long as she stayed.
So she lay there for a bit and took inventory. Her head didn’t hurt or feel wrong anymore. Her ankle felt sore, but not as bad. Same with her knee.
Maybe they felt a little twingy when she got up, but she could walk okay. Nobody had said she couldn’t take a shower, and she wanted one. She had the little bag—toothbrush and stuff—Mouser had brought her, so she went to the bathroom she shared with Chi-Chi and some other kids.
It felt so good to wash, to put on clean clothes, even if the pants were a little too big and a little too short.
Hungry, she started downstairs. She could hear people talking, hear at least somebody playing a game. She thought she’d get something to eat and see what chores she had to do.
She’d be happy to do them—if she did her chores, didn’t bitch and whine, she could stay. Stay with Sebastian and Mouser, and all the other kids. She’d always have somebody to talk to, to hang out with.
Then, when she did whatever Sebastian said, maybe Mouser or Chi-Chi or somebody wanted to go out for a while. She wanted to see the city.
She had little flashes of it—icy cold, lots of lights and people—and wanted to see if she made them up or remembered something.
Maybe she didn’t want to remember the woman with the angry voice, or why she’d had to hide in the dark, but this was different.
She liked having her name—Dorian—and she liked being here. She felt sure she liked being in New York even though that was blurry and cold.
She saw Sebastian in the family room, just like the night before, but today he talked to one of the kids—a girl, maybe a little younger than she was—while he scooted three little red bowls around a table.
“Keep your eye on the shiny silver ball, Bets, while we go round and round. Find the ball, win five dollars.”
Then he stopped. “Where’s the ball?”
She tapped, decisively, on the middle bowl. But when he lifted it, no ball.
“But I know it was there. I watched really close.”
“Hand’s quicker than the eye.” And he held out a hand with the silver ball in the palm.
“But I saw you put it under the bowl.”
“You thought you saw because I told you to see it.” Idly, he shifted the bowls around the table. “You have to be very quick and smooth in the old shell game.” He smiled at her. “Oops, where’s the ball?”
“In your other hand.”
He held both out, empty, then lifted the left bowl to reveal it.
“But—how did you do it? Can you teach me?”
“I am.” He spotted Dorian. “Practice awhile. You have the hands for it.”
He rose. “Good morning. I bet you’re hungry.”
“I could really eat.”
“Let’s see about that.”
They had a communal kitchen with a big table, and a bigger table in the room right next to it. She knew the rules already. Everybody took care of their own dishes. If you ate the last of something, you had to tell the one in charge that week. It rotated.
“I’ll take care of your breakfast this morning.”
Like a dad, she thought, and yearned. “You don’t have to.”
“You get one more day’s grace,” he told her. “How about an egg pocket, and it looks like someone foraged in the great city woods and found some berries.”
“That’s chill. Is Mouser around? I thought maybe we could go out today. I feel a lot better.”
“That’s good.” As he programmed what looked like an ancient AutoChef, he glanced around. “Give us the kitchen for now, Howl.”
When Howl, a gangly sixteen with a mop of hair falling over his eyes, shrugged and slumped off, Dorian said, “I don’t mind if he’s here while I eat.”
“I’d like to have the time and space to talk to you for now.”
At the table, she gripped her hands together in her lap. “Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry! Don’t make me go. I can—”
“Dorian, you did nothing wrong, and no one will make you go anywhere.” He set the egg pocket in front of her, and the berries, then something pretending to be orange juice.