Twice Born

Chapter 13

The shelter is overflowing with people. Even from the distance, I see the bustle of activity around it. Mostly children, but a few adults, too. Probably more Trackers.

I stop next to a house some distance away, half-hidden behind a shrub of blue hydrangeas, and observe the scene. A group of older boys and girls paint the house a lime-green color, lively compared to the old faded brown. The younger ones chase one another around the front yard, now enclosed by a wooden fence.

My stomach flips when I spot Daniel on the porch steps. He speaks with one of the men fixing the shutters of a window, his arms crossed and his face somber.

Not for long. A little girl approaches him and says something that makes him smile. One of the teenage boys hands him a brush, and he gives it to the child. Once she has it gripped in her hand, he bends down, grabs her around the waist, and hoists her up.

She makes a few strokes along the upper portion of the wall, peals of laughter reaching my ears, before he lowers her to the ground. She hands the brush back to him and takes off running across the yard, joining her friends. Nolan, the little boy who shared a bed with Daniel, is among them. Looking at him, it’s impossible to know what he’s been through.

Eileen, who sits on the steps, says something, a huge smile on her face. Daniel responds with just as much enthusiasm. Watching him is painful. Only a day has passed since we last spoke and already, he’s moved on. He’s smiling and spending time with his loved ones and planning for the future. Nothing about me seems to have stuck in his mind.

I rub my mouth with a shaky hand, wondering what I’m doing here. He’s alive and well, and more importantly, he’s happy. Without me. He might not be happy with me, and I can’t take that away from him. I can’t be that selfish.

I walk away blindly, my steps slow and heavy. I’m not sure I’m getting enough air into my lungs. Something thick and painful is clogging my chest, like my heart has given up its place and wants to force its way out of my throat.

I reach an old terrace, its steps built along a steep slope. It’s overgrown with wild plants and vines that coil possessively around broken marble benches. It might have been a beautiful place to rest at some point, but like most things it’s now no more than a faded memory of better times.   

I sit on the steps, my head in my hands. Hours or mere heartbeats might have passed when I hear, “Bree.”

My head jerks up. Daniel stands below me, his foot on the bottom step. But then he lowers it and sticks his hands in his pockets, and it feels like he’s erected a wall between us.

There’s caution in his usually-warm brown eyes. My gaze flickers to the red bruises on his throat, but I’m too scared to ask about them. I don’t want to draw attention to what Eve did to him last night.

“I saw you earlier,” he says. “Down the street from the shelter.”

The bush didn’t hide me quite as well as I’d hoped. I look down at his right hand, but I can’t see the Sunblade tattoo. It’s not too cold today and he isn’t wearing his coat, but he still has on a long-sleeved cotton shirt.

“And you followed me.” I don’t know what I mean by that. I’m not angry or disappointed he’s here. But I’m too apprehensive to take it as a good sign.

He climbs the steps and sits next to me, leaving deliberate space between us. He stretches out his long legs. “I did. Not quite sure what I hoped to accomplish.”

Voices ring out behind us. I glance back at a group of children in patched clothes walking down below along the street. Two bigger boys and a third, smaller one, who runs after them. Judging by his angry expression and their laughter, they’re up to no good. Having fun at the expense of the little one. It brings back memories of my younger days, how the bigger street children always singled out the smaller ones like me for their pranks and games.