no savior.

no hesitation

There's a knock and I answer it, "Hello?"

I open the door, revealing Ms.Lea and a thin girl with long, straggly dark hair, hiding most of her face, her head bent to the floor.

"KJ, this is Charlie, one of the girls your working with. You got around to reading those files right?"

Hell no. "Yes ma'am," I offer the girl my hand and she shakes it, "Nice to meet you, Charlie."

She doesn't respond and Ms.Lea taps her, "How about you have a seat, Charlie? KJ? A word?"

Haven't you said enough of those? "Yes ma'am?" I step into the hall and she gives me a pain smile, "You don't mind seeing her right now do you?"

She's already in my office? "Sure, no problem," I smile, "I'd love to."

"Oh great! Love the room by the way. Really opens the space up!" there's a crash and she takes off to solve whatever problems have arisen.

I head back into my office where Charlie is and take a seat, "So... Charlie..." I dig out her file and crack it open. "Been in the system since thirteen... West side huh?"

She doesn't respond and I continue reading the file to myself... Symptons of PTSD... Selective mutism...

"You aren't gonna talk to me are you, Ms. Charlie?" I look up at her and she lifts her eyes for the first time, revealing a plain but cute face. She shakes her head.

"That's okay," I keep reading her file, "You don't have to talk to me."

I grab my bag and pull out my sketch bag, ripping a clean page, "You like to draw, kid?" I notice the faintest spark in her cold eyes, "You do don't you?"

"You've been in the system a while right?" I hand her the page and a couple pens, "I'm gonna skip the basic stuff, like 'draw your feelings' or whatever... Draw where you'd rather be right now."

She starts drawing and I sit back and grab the other file on my desk. ELLA MORTIZ. Seventeen years old... Been in the system since she was sixteen... Flight risk... I examine the photo with it, pictured is a dark haired girl, long, wavy, tendrils framing her heart shaped face.

I finish the file and turn my attention back to Charlie, "Finished?"

I look at the drawing, seeing that it's clearly a person. Under cut hair. Pierced septum. Eyes that seem to hold the devil in them ... Oh?

A girl person....

"No chance of you telling me who this is right?" I ask and she blushes. There's a knock on the door. I open it and see take in the live action version of the drawing in my hand right now.

"You're the new therapist?"

"You're Ella Mortiz?"

Layne's POV

I take a few photos of the documents before me and exit their room, making sure to put everything back in place, as if I was never there. I debate bringing it up to Dil, since obviously Dru wanted me to know, but decide against it. There's no way they'd let me go out there to see her.

I didn't even know if I wanted to see her myself.

Five years had gone by already. No calls. No texts. Not even a postcard. I'd dissected my journal to the point of insanity, reading in between every line, trying to get as much out of it as I could. None of what I'd found had explained where she was, considering that we were, from what it seemed, constantly together.

Then suddenly we weren't. I also thought it was weird that the journal stopped so abruptly. There was almost an entry for every single day. Then it stops, a fourth of the pages of the notebook unused. It didn't add up. I was clearly missing something.

When Dru and Dil come in I'm stretched out on the couch. Dru goes to start dinner and Dil sits in the arm chair closest to me, "Can we talk?"

"Can we?" I snipe. I start to tear into him but he raises his hands, "Can we talk peacefully?"

I sit up, "What do you have to say, Dillion?"

"I'm sorry," he exhales, "I haven't been completely honest with you, clearly. I did fire Mira for a moment, but Aunt Saf hired her back. She said that our apartment needed a woman's touch."

"And I'm not a woman?"

"You're in your room most of the day," Dil says, "So yeah. She comes to clean every Tuesday at eleven."

"When I'm supposed to be out jogging?"

"Layne," Dru gets my attention and shakes his head. Fine. I back down, seeing that Dil is clearly trying with me.

He runs a frustrated hand through his curly hair, "I'm just trying to protect you, Layne."

"I don't need protecting," I stand up, "I need to be able to trust my brother."

I exit the room and go back to mine. Wait... I have a name...

I sit down at my laptop, pulling up Google. Kaylie Jane Parker. I garner a bunch of results, none of them her. I check my notes on what her new name is. Kaylie Jane Micheals. I garner even less results. Hmmm.

KJ Micheals.

Bingo.

I read her Facebook profile. She graduated from some school in Colorado. Single. Living in California. Well that's odd.

I go through her pictures. Her on a mountain. Her at a party, reclined against a wall. Her cozied up with a guy with a buzz cut.

I check the bio and see that her profile was made only five years ago. Which explains why I'm not in any of the pictures. Not that I wanted to be in them.

"Alayna?" My door opens and I quickly minimize my screen.

"Aunt Saf," I stand up and she approaches me.

"Are you busy tomorrow? I need help with something," she asks.

I can tell from her tone that she isn't asking. "Anything for you. "

"It'll be good for you to get out the house," she goes on, ignoring anything I have to say, "Be ready at 8 tomorrow so we'll have enough time."

"Time to what?"

"To go back into town," she states, "There's a town market and I need to be there to sponser."

"We're going back home?"

"I just said that," she huffs, "See you tomorrow."

"Yes ma'am." And see me tomorrow you will indeed.