Concealed in the Shadows (Book #1)

Chapter Thirty-Three

Merick is sleeping on the couch when I wake up in the morning. The sun is up, which means my father has already arrived at the barrier.

I quietly search for paper and a pen to write Merick a note saying where I have gone. I don't want to give him a fright like the one I gave my father, Galvesten, and Della when I wanted to be alone after Cy's death. I add 'please keep me informed' on the note and rest it on top of the cell phone Merick has placed next to his pillow.

I'm not sure if by my father's standards I am allowed to walk to the laundromat by myself, but he has to concede some forms of independence to me.

Merick was comfortable enough with my safety to fall heavily asleep, so I don't worry about being snatched by a BOT as I walk down the quiet streets in the fresh morning air. Something like that wouldn't happen in daylight. Though my father feels differently, I wouldn't mind being taken by a BOT because it would mean being taken to Evvie.

"Good morning, Sydney," the already working Gwen greets as I arrive.

"Hi!" shouts a little girl. She has blonde hair like Gwen, but hers is stick-straight, unlike Gwen's tight curls.

"This is my daughter, Lysia."

"Lysandria," she whines, upset that her mother did not introduce her properly. "It's a combination of Lysander and Alexandria. Do you know who Lysander is? It's from Shakespeare," she answers before I've had a chance to tell her that I do. My father's name, Demetri, stems from a character's name from the same story.

"Actually, Sydney, I'm supposed to meet Rico in a half hour at the hospital and I'd like to stop by the school first. Would you be comfortable watching Lysandria for a while? I won't be long with Rico, just long enough to load the rest of Decklin's boxes onto the cart and haul it to this side of town."

"Sure," I say hesitantly, "but couldn't we help?"

"Rico has that covered. I'd actually love it if we could get these loads all flipped while I'm gone. Lysia knows how. She can show you and she will help you," Gwen warns her daughter.

"I know, I know," Lysia snaps. This one seems like a little handful. I think Crewe said something about that once. He said Gwen struggles to keep up with laundry because of that kid. This must be her. I don't want to stay here and have this little one pry into everything that's happening in my life, but I don't see what choice I have.

"Thank you, Sydney, and I'll be back soon."

Lysia doesn't allow a beat of silence as her mother exits the laundromat. "Guess why she has to stop by the school?" she says.

"Why?" I bite.

"I'm suspended," she grins mischievously. I don't doubt that judging by her gregariousness. It explains why she is at her mother's work instead of school on a Friday morning.

"How old are you?" I ask. She seems too little to have done anything serious enough to get in trouble.

"I'm eight. Aren't you going to ask what I did?" she plays.

"I'm sure you'll tell me," I say. A pinch of humor rises in me. Like my father suggested in Cy's eulogy, I found a simple reason to smile today, despite not knowing what is happening to him and my sister inside Miles County.

"I threw a bucket of crayons at another kid's face." Clearly, Lysia isn't remorseful about the action. I can't imagine such a young little girl committing such an infraction. Cyber bullying was the only real problem instruction monitors had to face with their students on EduWeb. I imagine behavior management is more of a struggle in a traditional school environment.