House Without Lies (Lily’s House Book 1)

by Rachel Branton

Then because Jameson had told me how much time he spent with Payden since his father died, I pinched my cheeks and ran a tube of lipstick over my lips before getting out of the car. Just in case Jameson stopped by on a break or something.

  Inside, we bought a small bag of Elsie’s favorite chips, and Payden’s face lit up when he saw her. By the time we got around to the back of the store, Payden was already there.

  “Hey, Elsie,” he said. “You look nice.”

  She shrugged and blushed. “Lily helped with my hair.”

  “It was a challenge, I tell you,” I said. “She had like five rat nests. We had to evict all the tenants.” Payden laughed, but Elsie’s blush deepened, so I added, “Kidding, of course. She has great hair. What have we got here today?”

  I took the box from his arms and pretended great interest while the two stared at each other without talking. Elsie wasn’t usually this reticent and neither was Payden.

  “So,” I said, after a bit. “Maybe you can come and hang out with us sometimes. Maybe with your cousin.”

  Payden’s smile turned on me. “I told you he was great, right?”

  “Right.”

  Payden gave me another secret smile and turned back to Elsie. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

  She nodded, and they stared at each other for a couple more long seconds, and then Payden had to go inside. “I’ll talk to Mario about getting together.”

  “You do that.”

  We turned and retraced our steps to the car. “He’s so nice,” Elsie said. “He looks at me nicely. Not like—” She broke off.

  “Like who?” I put the groceries in the back seat.

  “Nobody,” she mumbled. Her face was pale and her eyes glued to the ground.

  I waited until we got in the car to say, “You can tell me when you’re ready. It won’t surprise me. It isn’t fair and it isn’t right, but whatever happened, I promise you I’ll do my best to see that it doesn’t happen again.”

  Elsie lifted her eyes to mine. “I know. But some people . . . I just don’t ever want to talk about him. It’s like if I do, he’ll find me.”

  “Okay,” I said simply. At least she’d verified again that it was a “him” she’d been running from. Of all the girls I’d helped, so far the only woman who’d been abusive was Saffron’s mother. Mothers were often neglectful, addicted, absent, or victims themselves, but not quite as prone to beating a child half to death.

  When we arrived at the apartment, Makay was there with Nate. “Hey.” She looked up at us from the couch where she cuddled her brother. Ruth and Halla were tickling his toes and trying to get him to come to them. Saffron was in the corner with her iPhone that she currently used only as an iPod, since she lost her cell phone service after her parents kicked her out.

  Makay set Nate in Ruth’s arms and came to help me put away the groceries. “Can I store a few packs of diapers here? I had some double coupons for them, but I don’t dare leave them at Fern’s. She has a great talent of turning baby items into cash for her drugs, and my roommates are almost as bad.”

  “Sure, come on.”

  Leaving Nate with the girls, Makay grabbed her grocery bag and followed me to the bedroom closet where I kept a large trunk with a heavy combination padlock. Though I mostly trusted the girls, it didn’t make sense to tempt them, not with their background of survival. So I kept the trunk, and each of them were allowed to put their private or personal belongings inside, separated into labeled flat rate boxes from the post office, which Makay had once pointed out was an improper use of the boxes and was probably prosecutable by law. One more thing for me to worry about. But the setup worked nicely, and nothing had been stolen or misplaced since I’d started it last January. None of us had much, so there was enough room for the two diaper packs.

  “You don’t have to put them in there,” Makay said. “There’s enough room on that top shelf.”

  “It’s okay. I’d feel better being sure.”

  “So,” Makay said, dropping onto one of the mattresses and bringing her knees to her chest. “I hear you have a new job.”

  “That’s right. I’m really excited about it.” I relocked the trunk and sat next to her on the mattress and told her about Teen Remake and the Back to Nature program. “It’s different from what I’m doing now because the parents are involved, paying for the programs and working with their kids, but it’ll be similar in a lot of ways, I’m guessing.”

  “You’ll be great,” Makay said. “Does this mean you don’t have to go to your dad’s sweat shop?”

  I laughed. “Hardly. It just means maybe we can find a bigger place.”

  She shook her head. “Not with just one income. It’s impossible.”

  “Maybe I can, if I’m an official foster parent.”

  Makay’s eyes widened. “Seriously? That would be great! I mean, even a little bit that you can use for food and lodging would make a huge difference.”

  “I know, right?” I felt happy inside. Hopeful. “It means I’ll be out late on Fridays, and Thursdays are going to be hard, since I’ll have to go to both my jobs. At least on Thursdays I’ll be working at Teen Remake instead of at the camp, so there isn’t added driving time. But I was hoping you might stop by to check on Elsie for me. I don’t like leaving her alone so long, and I’m not sure she’s ready to run errands with the other girls.”

  “Sure, I’d be glad to.” Makay rocked back on the mattress, her arms around her legs. At the moment she looked as young as Elsie, her dark hair almost as long.

  “It won’t interfere with your job?”

  She frowned and shook her head. “Actually, I was fired from the restaurant. I went to drop off Nate yesterday morning because Fern had called me, bawling, late Wednesday night and said she wanted him. Usually when she does that, she’s sober for a few days, and there’s a neighbor there who keeps an ear out for Nate, just in case. But when I got there, she was passed out, and I had no one to watch him. I tried to call in sick, but apparently I’ve done that one too many times.”

  “You couldn’t just bring him here?”

  “I knew you would be taking the girls to their job.”

  “Saffron and Elsie were here.”

  She sighed. “Yeah, but I’d have still been late, and they gave me a boatload of warnings. It was be there on time or hit the road. Honestly, I can’t blame them.”

  “What are you going to do about rent?” Before she answered, I hurried to add, “You know you’re always welcome here.”

  “I have another gig coming up. It’s only an occasional job, but I’ve done it before in the past, and it usually gets me enough.”

  I didn’t like the way her face blanched as she said it. “Doing what?”

  “Basically, I’m a courier.”

  Something inside me screamed a warning. “It’s not drugs, is it?”

  “You kidding? After what drugs have done to Fern? No way. No drugs or alcohol involved. Basically, this guy tracks people down on the Internet and connects them with others who want to find them, mostly kids looking for their birth parents. I do some running around for him, delivering or picking up stuff. The only setback is that he’s kind of a jerk. But I’ve known him for years, and he helped me survive after I left home as a kid.” She frowned. “That was back when I thought I could find my birth parents.”

  “Wait, I thought your parents died.”

  “They were my adoptive parents.”

  How did I not know that? Poor Makay, losing her adoptive mother, then her father—though he hadn’t been much of a prize to begin with—and now being stuck with her stepmother, Fern. “Well, like I said, you can always stay here.”

  “I know, but I hate to add to your burden. Seven women in a one bedroom, one bath apartment is too much already.”

  “They don’t need much.”

  “I’ll keep it in mind. Maybe we can find a bigger place together.”

  I stared at her. “Yeah, maybe so.”

  For a moment, my dream of a house s
eemed a step closer. The foster parenting, Makay helping . . . but Makay had Nate to worry about, and her stepmother. She could barely afford the low rent she paid in the apartment she shared with five other girls, and having Nate with her so much made working even part time difficult. No, I needed to do it myself.

  “What is it?” Makay asked, her dark eyes concerned.

  “Ah, it’s nothing. Thanks for agreeing to check in on Elsie. She’s finally warming up a bit, and I don’t want any setbacks.”

  “She’ll be all right. Kids are resilient.” If anyone knew that, it was Makay. I still didn’t know how she’d survived on the street so young after her drunk father had married the horrible Fern.

  Without warning, the partially ajar bedroom door slammed the rest of the way open. Ruth stood there, her eyes large. “Come quick, you got to see this! It’s Halla—she’s all over the Internet.”

  I leapt from the bed and followed her into the living room, where Saffron was booting up my computer. “Look!” she said, pushing her phone at me. I glanced at the picture on Saffron’s Facebook page. It was Halla all right, though her hair was a few inches longer in the photo. No mistaking her blue eyes and the small, narrow nose. Instead of her customary army pants and tank top, she wore a pink T-shirt and her lips had been brushed with gloss. “Everyone is posting this,” Saffron said. “She looks a little different, but it’s obviously Halla. Anyone who sees this is going to know it’s her.”

  I sat down in front of my laptop and put in the password. Sure enough, my own friends were posting the missing girl picture, which already had over five thousand shares. I glanced at Halla, who was standing by the couch, her eyes round and her face frightened.

  “I won’t go back,” she said.

  “Of course not.” I thought a moment. “Look, we recognize her because we know her, but most people won’t. Her hair is so short and with her camouflage, it’s almost like a disguise.”

  “It’ll pass,” Makay predicted. “The next thing will come along and replace it. Everyone will forget in a few days.”

  Saffron shook her head. “There’s more.” She clicked on the link, and it went to a blog run by Halla’s parents, who looked nice and normal and concerned. Smack dab in the middle of the page was a picture of Halla with her short hair and camouflage. “We believe she is now in Arizona,” her father wrote. “We’ve left Idaho and will be staying in Arizona until we bring her home.”

  “He even has their pastor making a plea on a Go Fund Me account,” Ruth said. “It’s sick.”

  “How did they even get that picture?” Halla sank down on the couch beside me. “I didn’t cut my hair until I left home.”

  Saffron’s jaw clenched, her eyes blazing. “The jerk must have gotten it from someone at one of the homeless shelters you stopped at on the way here from Idaho.”

  “I’ll have to leave,” Halla whispered as I slipped my arm around her. “I’ll have to run again.”

  Ruth squeezed in next to Halla and grabbed her hand. “I’ll go with you. I ain’t lettin’ you go alone.”

  “No one’s going anywhere,” I told them. “We’re all sticking together. Makay’s right—this will blow over. We just have to stay low until they move on. Meanwhile, I’ll get certified as a foster parent, and talk to the lady I met yesterday and figure things out.”

  Elsie reached past Ruth and laid a small hand on Halla’s shoulder. “I’ll help Ruth with your jobs until they leave.”

  Halla’s frozen face suddenly relaxed. “Thank you.” She jumped up and hugged Elsie.

  Saffron had turned my laptop toward her and was reading the rest. “Nothing here from your mother, Halla. Besides the picture of them together, it’s only him. He says he’s taken a leave of absence. They’ve raised a couple thousand dollars on the Go Fund Me, but it looks stalled now.” She paused, considering. “I think we should give you a new look, make sure you always wear different clothes—”

  “She could dress like a boy,” Ruth said excitedly.

  I looked at Halla doubtfully. “She wouldn’t pass for a boy any more than you do in those clothes, but changing her appearance isn’t a bad idea. And keeping her out of sight until this dies down. You willing to do that, Halla?”

  She nodded. “If it means I don’t have to leave. I’ve got a few books to read anyway.”

  “You can use my phone for a few weeks until I have enough for cell service,” Saffron said. “I downloaded a ton of really great free books from mybookcave.com. They’re even rated for content like movies.” She hesitated before adding. “But I do have an idea. What if I post that this whole blog is a hoax?”

  “Uh,” I said, “maybe not. They can trace these things.”

  “There might be a way.” Saffron smiled. “I met a new guy today. Computer whiz. I bet he’d know.”

  “You can’t trust him!” Halla sounded panicked.

  “Of course not. But that doesn’t mean I can’t learn a few things from him.” There was a determination in Saffron’s voice that I’d heard before. She was going to research this, whatever we said.

  “You learn all you want,” I told her. “But don’t do anything until we talk.”

  She frowned but nodded slowly. “Okay.”

  Makay reached over and picked up Nate, who was clawing at her pant leg. “I might have some ideas on that myself,” she said. “I know a guy who finds people, and I’ve learned a bit about how to make being found harder.”

  I snapped my fingers. “Now that’s a great idea. You two work together. Saffron, just run everything past Makay, okay?” Since I had no time for social media and was barely on the Internet, Makay would police the situation better than I ever could. I believed in delegation.

  “Halla,” Makay said, “you haven’t used your Facebook lately, have you?”

  She shook her head. “Only twice since I left Idaho, and not since Lily brought me and Ruth home.”

  Home, meaning the old apartment. I still felt grateful my parents held their Thanksgiving celebration at noon, so I was able to drive back to find Ruth and Halla eating dinner at the church. If I hadn’t found them, they wouldn’t have discovered Zoey and Bianca a month later.

  “That’s good.” To Makay, I added, “Let us know.”

  “Well, since we’re staying in anyway,” Saffron said, “who wants to do nails?”

  “Me! Me!” yelled Nate.

  We all laughed. They crowded around the small kitchen table, and as I listened to their chatter, I thought about how the girls had come into my life. Funny how the two largest family days of the year, Thanksgiving and Christmas, had each increased our little misfit family by two. Saffron had arrived first around Labor Day, and I’d found Elsie a few days after Easter, which had come in mid-April this year.

  I couldn’t help wondering who I might find on the Fourth of July.

  8

  Makay left to track down some coupon deals at the grocery store, and the girls spent the afternoon fiddling with Halla’s appearance while I replaced the screws in my repaired cupboard door. After an hour, Saffron went out and bought a cheap brown wig, and that made all the difference.

  I was touched that she’d spent the money she was saving for a car and phone service to help Halla. It was a far cry from when she and Zoey almost had fist fights over who was going to shower first, or when she accused Ruth of hoarding food.

  I realized that somehow, at some point, they’d changed from a bunch of troubled, runaway girls into a family. A real family.

  That only made me more determined to fight for them.

  Ruth sat next to me on the couch, watching the final transformation. “I almost don’t know you myself,” she said to Halla. I had to agree. Halla still looked fourteen instead of sixteen, but with subtle makeup instead of thick black liner, dark hair, and normal clothes, she wasn’t easily recognizable.

  “Weird how hair can make such a difference.” There was a wistfulness in Ruth’s voice.

  I turned to her. “We can do you next.”
/>
  Her eyes dropped to her oversized pants. “I don’t think so.”

  As if sensing her friend’s distress, Halla stopped turning around and dropped to her knees in front of where we sat. “I told her she’d look beautiful in girl clothes, but she doesn’t want to look beautiful.”

  “Well, she’s beautiful anyway,” Saffron said, hands on her hips as she stared down on us. “I bet you could be a model.”

  Ruth’s face paled. “I hate being pretty. My mom says it’s my fault her boyfriends couldn’t help themselves.”

  I’d told her before that what happened to her wasn’t her fault, but this was the first time she’d admitted that her mother also blamed her. “Well, your mother is plain wrong. It’s their fault—and hers. You were only thirteen. She should have protected you.” Her eyes lifted to mine, and I hoped I was getting through. “You have every right to be beautiful and dress beautifully and not be afraid of being attacked by scumbags pretending to be men. Real men don’t attack women, and certainly not kids. I’m not saying you should go around half-naked or walk into dangerous situations—that would be stupid—but you have the right to be safe in your own home. And you are perfectly safe here.”

  There was no doubt in my mind that Ruth needed counseling, but we didn’t have access to that, not yet. All she had was me and the others. I’d researched myself crazy on this, and most of it boiled down to love, patience, security, and reassurance. I hoped it was enough.

  “I know I’m safe now,” Ruth said. “But if they send me back again—”

  “Not going to happen,” Halla retorted. “Come on. Let’s dress you up.”

  Ruth was weakening. “Well, maybe it would be okay, just for a little while.”

  “Yes!” Saffron clapped her hands and went to dig in the closet. She couldn’t find any pants long enough, but some tan shorts and a fitted white tee did wonders. I still hadn’t figured out how to style Ruth’s frizzy hair, but we braided it in tiny cornrows that made her eyes and face stand out. I’d really have to see if Bea from DCS could give me any hair pointers. Of course, that might mean telling her about Ruth. Maybe soon.