***
I’d never known a mouth that small could contain so many fries. I’d ordered one large fry but realized I should have ordered seven.
After ten minutes of devouring almost everything on the tray, Sissy looked up with her mouth full of food. “Thish is sho good.”
“Glad you like it.”
She actually smiled. It wasn’t a big one, just a small crease of her mouth on one side, though I was positive it was the first time I’d ever seen her do it. The smile disappeared when she glanced at Kull.
He stood. “Excuse me, ladies,” he said before heading to the bathroom.
Sissy watched him go with suspicious eyes. “So why is Thor following you around?”
See? I’m not the only one who thinks the guy looks like the god of thunder.
“I owe him. He won’t leave until he gets it.”
Sissy raised an eyebrow.
“Not like that,” I answered.
“Why do you owe him?”
“He helped me search for your brother’s dreamsoul. I didn’t find it, but I’m closer.” I decided to unload on her. I told her about the Dreamthief, the Wult tombs, the goblins, and Mog’s Keep. Either she would help me, or she wouldn’t. I wanted to gauge her reaction and see if anything I spoke about seemed familiar to her.
The girl was good at keeping a straight face. Somewhere in life, she’d learned to hide her emotions. “And you think my brother is in that tower?”
“I’m certain of it.”
“Can you get him out?”
I had no clue where to find it, but I wouldn’t tell her that. “I was hoping you could help me.”
She bit her lip. I saw her indecision. She knew something.
“Sissy,” I said in my calm voice, “where is Jeremiah?”
She stared at the tray. Chatter in the restaurant drifted to us as she debated my question. Taking a deep breath, she stared out the window as she spoke.
“He got worse. They said it was his heart. I don’t know. But they brought him to the hospital. My foster mom wouldn’t let me come. She tried to make me stay at the neighbor’s house.”
“Did you run away?”
“No.”
“Does your foster mom know where you are?”
“I hid when she came to the house. That bit—sorry, witch—even called the cops. They couldn’t find me. I’m good at disappearing when I need to.” Her head jerked up. “You won’t tell no one. Got it? I ain’t never going back with that lady.”
“You know she must be really upset.”
“She isn’t. She hates me.”
Sissy didn’t get it. She must have decided that no one loved her, even the people who cared for her. She trusted no one, and so she loved no one except her brother. If I could find him, I’d be saving more than one life.
“This may be hard to hear, but someday, you’ll have to learn to trust someone. The world is full of bad people, but it’s full of good people, too. Your foster mom cares for you, even if you can’t see it.”
I felt a little like Brent as I said that to her. Hadn’t he said almost the same thing to me only a few hours ago?
She didn’t answer, just stared out the window with those wide, brown eyes. I wanted to help her, but I couldn’t until she decided to let me.
Kull returned with a tray of hot apple pies. The cinnamon smell filled the air.
Sissy stuffed a couple of pies in her hoodie’s pockets before opening a box. She didn’t cram it in her mouth, choosing to nibble at it instead, and keeping her eyes on Kull as she did.
“You are very brave to protect your brother,” he said.
Sissy didn’t answer.
“He must have a good soul.”
She shrugged. “He’s a brat sometimes.”
“But I’m sure he loves you.”
“He’s my brother. Of course he loves me.”
“My sisters are much like you. Sometimes I think I protect them, only to realize they protect me.”
She glanced at his biceps. “Your sisters protect you? Please.”
“Having physical strength isn’t nearly as important as wisdom.” He leaned a little closer. “They’re smarter than me, but you’re never to tell them that.”
Sissy almost smiled. She took a bite of pie instead. “For a long time, it’s been just Jeremiah and me. When bad things happened, I kept him safe, you know? Because I’m older. I said I’d never leave him. I promised him.”
“It must be hard to be away from him,” I said.
“It’s not my fault,” she snapped. “My mom…” Her eyes turned glossy with tears. “Foster mom.” She took a deep breath and stared at the tray instead. “If you could get him back and find a new home for us. Please.”
She was opening up, and I didn’t want to shoot her down. But I didn’t want to make promises I couldn’t keep, either. “Do you think taking him out of a real home would solve the problem?”
“It’s not a real home. She doesn’t listen to me. She spends all her time with the other kids. She won’t even let me go out. Like, ever. I’m stuck there all the time.”
It probably never would be a real home to her. She didn’t know what a real home was. She had to live by rules. Typical teenager.
“Look, I can pass for sixteen, easy. If you could just vouch for me, or something, I could take care of Jeremiah. Better than her, anyway.”
“It doesn’t work like that.”
“Why not?”
I decided to give it to her straight. Seemed like she needed a reality check. “Because Child Protective Services has a record of your birth certificate on file. Because you can’t even take care of yourself. You’re living in a filthy house. You have no food. You don’t have a job. You don’t have any money. Because I’d get thrown in jail for endangering children.”
She crossed her arms. I hoped I hadn’t pushed too hard, but she couldn’t keep living like she was.
“I can take care of him. I swear. You don’t even know me.”
“I know how you’ve been living. Is that really the way you want your brother to live, too?”
Her mouth twitched. She looked ready to bolt.
“Look, I’ll see what I can do to get you moved to another foster home. I can’t promise anything, but I do have some clout with CPS. Before I do anything, I want you to give Mrs. Dickinson a second chance. She’s got a lot on her plate. Most of her foster kids come from worse situations than yours.”
“And they’re all in jail.”
She had a point. I knew of at least three of Mrs. Dickinson’s stepkids who had permanent residence in the Texas state prison system. “But it’s your turn to prove that some kids can turn out all right, even the ones who come from crummy homes. Give her a chance, Sissy.”
“No way. She’s psycho. Trust me, okay? People who—” she paused. “People who wear glasses that huge are messed up in the head.”
I was certain she meant to say something else. I leaned forward. “Sissy, are you telling me everything?”
She swallowed. Her face paled. She was hiding something from me. I’d written her off as a cocky, self-absorbed teenager, but what if there were more to Sissy than I thought?
Her look of defiance returned. “I’ve told you everything.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.” She drew the word out, enunciating each syllable.
I sighed. “Then I can’t help you.”
“And I can’t help you.”
Another impasse. I felt ready to throw in the towel. Some of my patients were easy to work with, a session or two and they saw the light and everything was peachy. But I could tell that Sissy wasn’t one of them. Sometimes stubbornness could be a good thing, but not in this situation.
Kull spoke up. “Your brother needs you. You aren’t helping him by hiding. Be brave. Confront your foster mother. She’ll listen if you speak to her.” He said the word speak with a reverent tone, and I knew exactly what he meant.
“He�
��s right,” I said. “Don’t yell, don’t freak out. Keep your cool, and she’ll listen.”
I expected a smart retort, but Sissy said nothing.
“We’ll be with you,” I said.
Still she didn’t answer.
Sounds of laughter came from the play area. I watched a little boy, maybe four, jump off the slide and then run up the stairs for another turn. He grinned from ear to ear, not a care in the world, completely oblivious to the ugliness and hatred out there.
“Promise you won’t leave me?” She looked at me with those eyes, and I knew I couldn’t lie to her.
“I promise.”
She exhaled, sounding defeated, sounding tired. “He’s at Hermann Memorial. Room nine-seventeen.”
Dreamthief Page 34