When Lee witnesses a murder, her only chance at survival is running. Somewhere along the way she meets a man who takes her to The Runaway House, a safe place for fugitives and runaways. There she begins to find peace, courage, love, and a real famil...
"You remind me of my mom. The way you watch and quietly accept. The way you giggle. Even the way you told me to come out of Amy's room last night. Jeff saw it too. I think that's why he picked you up."
We're sitting by the pond, watching the sunrise. Sweetly, he brought along a blanket so I don't have to sit in the dew.
He's quiet for a moment. Then, skipping a stone across the water's edge, he murmurs, "Her name was Emilie."
The water glistens in the sunlight, but I'm watching him. He chose red plaid today, and it's hard to keep my eyes off of him.
They get desperate when they're a mess.
I look away. Is that all this is?
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"She died in an accident a few years ago. My dad . . . He didn't protect her. He was careless. It was his job, and he failed." He opens his mouth but closes it, shaking his head.
"So you try to make up for that?"
His head snaps toward me. "What?"
"That's what this is. You getting the medicine for Amy, telling those guys to stay away from me. You're making up for your dad's mistakes."
"No. That's what he does. I've just learned from what he did. I know now. You protect the ones you love." He sees my shocked expression. ". . . And the girl you have a crush on." He throws another stone into the pond, and we watch the glittering ripples.
We sit in silence. "I'm sorry you lost your mom." Emilie. It's such a beautiful name.
He lets out a long sigh. "I still have grandma. I have Amy. I . . . can't stand Jeff, if you haven't noticed. He was careless enough to let his wife get killed, and then he leaves, only to come back with you . . ."
"The painful reminder."
Bolting up straight, he says, "No! There's just . . . more going on here than I thought there was. A lot more. Jeff came to help Amy. That was the deal grandma had made with him. He was going to help Amy and then leave. She neglected to tell me this, of course, but I understand now. She was trying to help. But all he did was decide to let his daughter die and try to resurrect his wife."
"That's what I am to him?" I ask quietly.
He sighs. "All I know is that he saw her in you. And he saw your fear. So he rescued you, like he should've for Emilie. Like he should've his daughter. But he chickened out. On both of you!" He slams his hand into the grass.
"What?"
"He wants grandma to make you leave."
"What—why?!"
"You're still causing trouble with the boys." He rubs his face in frustration.
"Seriously?"
"Well. Not really. They've been on the verge of breaking into a fight for at least a month. You were just the straw that broke the camel's back."
"Oh." I look down, my attempt to hide my disappointment failing.
He reaches for my hand, caressing it tenderly. "Don't get me wrong, I'm glad he brought you here, Lee. I really am. I want you to stay. Jeff is the one who needs to leave. He's going to get controlling and screw things up for a lot of the kids."
I furrow my brows. "How?"
"He wants to become registered or something. Make this some special Witness Protection Program operation. But the second we get the government involved, families, social workers, court, and the foster system also can get involved. And sometimes that's great. But not for what we stand for.
"Penelope believes these kids have come to her for a reason. She doesn't want to force them back to what they were running away from. This place is a refuge. Here, you can stay safe while you figure out what your next step will be. Most people don't really know what they're doing when they run away—all they know is that they want out. And Penelope wants them to decide their future. Not some government employee. Trust me, we're better kept as a secret.
"Besides—if we go on the books . . ." He hands me two newspaper clippings. "Depending on this guy's resources, the possibility of you being found out could skyrocket."
I gasp as I read one of the headlines: "Former Cop Wanted for Assault." The soft paper begins to shake from my trembling hands. I read the article, stating that Chelsea Hoffman, a.k.a. my next door neighbor, was assaulted by the man who I'd watched kill another man.
He'd been shouting questions at her, and my guess is that they'd been about me.
"Travis—"
"Read the second article."
I flip to the next, but all I need is the picture of me to know what it's about. "But how did you figure out they were connected?"
"It was just a hunch, honestly. I picked up the paper when I saw your face on it. You run away, and then in the same town a man assaults your next door neighbor—which is stated in the article about you, by the way. The newspaper thinks he kidnapped you."
"He killed someone," I blurt, tears flooding my eyes. "He killed someone, and I watched it happen, and he knows. He's going to kill me, Travis."
"I know," he whispers.
"What? How?"
He tries to bite back the words, shaking his head as tears come to his eyes.
"Travis." I put a hand on his arm. "What's going on?"
"He's the reason my mother is dead."
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