Little Broken Things

“Lucy is family,” Quinn finished.

“I know. But there’s more to the story, Q.” Walker was shaking his head. “And right now this isn’t about Nora. She’s not even here. We have to think about Lucy. She’s not okay.”

“Who is her father?” Quinn whispered, voicing the question that had lodged like a burr in her mind. It had kept her up most of the night, tossing and turning and nursing worries like a wound.

“Some guy.” Walker shrugged. “Does it matter?”

Quinn was taken aback. After all their talks about starting a family, his casual dismissal of Lucy’s father felt unusually callous. But before she could protest, Quinn watched her husband realize his mistake.

“That’s not what I meant,” Walker said, holding up his hands in defense. “Of course it matters. But clearly the father is not involved. We can worry about him later.”

“Maybe he’s the reason Nora is being so secretive,” Quinn said, choosing to ignore her husband’s blunder. “What is she hiding? And—”

Walker cut Quinn off with a sudden, slicing gesture to his throat and she became aware of a presence that hadn’t been there before. They had been talking in generalities, and suddenly the very real object of their concern was hovering in the doorframe, regarding them suspiciously. She clutched the car blanket to her chest.

“Hey,” Quinn said softly, pushing away from Walker as if they had been caught doing something private. In a way, they had. “How are you doing, honey?”

Lucy didn’t answer, or acknowledge that she had heard her at all.

Quinn glanced at Walker, but he was giving the girl his warmest smile. Only Quinn could tell it was a bit crooked. She loved him just a little more for putting aside his own feelings to show Lucy kindness.

“Did you get good sleep?” Quinn fumbled, trying again to get something, anything out of Lucy.

“She’s hungry,” Walker said. “I can tell by the look on her face.”

Lucy had refused offers of cereal and toast, pancakes and eggs. Even the cup of freshly squeezed orange juice that Quinn had set on the night table beside her went untouched. At least, it had been untouched the last time Quinn checked.

But of course she was starving. She had to be.

“Pancakes?” Quinn asked, repeating the menu she had offered earlier. “Eggs and toast?” Her mind was spinning in a dozen different directions as she watched the unkempt little girl. It was obvious that breakfast was just the tip of the iceberg when it came to Lucy. She needed clothes and pajamas. A new pair of shoes. A toothbrush. Something other than the ratty car blanket to cuddle. Fish sticks and french fries. Walker and Quinn stocked their fridge with organics and farmers market fare. The closest thing to a kid-friendly option in their cabinets was a tin of the chocolate Quinn favored. It was dark and laced with flakes of chili pepper.

“How about some hot chocolate?” Quinn blurted. She had almond milk and Dutch-process cocoa powder. Surely she could concoct something warm and delicious from that. “And . . . blueberry muffins?”

“Grilled cheese,” Walker said definitively. “Lucy loves grilled cheese. I can tell.”

The child ignored his statement. But she did open her mouth. “I don’t know you,” she whispered. Her voice was hoarse and unused.

Quinn’s throat tightened. She had wondered if Lucy could speak at all. The few husky words were a gift.

“I don’t know you, either,” Walker said carefully. “But Quinn told me that your name is Lucy and that you’re going to stay with us for a while.”

Lucy held her tongue.

“Well,” Walker went on, “we sure are glad to have you. My name is Walker.”

Nothing.

Walker didn’t skip a beat. “How about it? Grilled cheese?”

Lucy nodded once.

“I’ve got this.” Quinn felt a twinge of jealousy at Walker’s easy way with Lucy and instantly hated herself for it. Embarrassed, she added, “Are you planning on working today?”

“Leaving now.” He bent to give Quinn a kiss on the cheek. As he neared the bedroom door Lucy backed quickly away, recoiling from both his tender look and his outstretched hand. It was obvious that Walker had hoped to touch her in some reassuring way, but Lucy would have none of it. To his credit, Walker let it go. “Quinn, can I talk to you a minute?” he called over his shoulder. The look he gave her was ripe with meaning.

Quinn followed, shooting Lucy an apologetic look as she passed. But Lucy wasn’t paying any attention to her anyway. She was staring at the wall, her slender jaw set in a hard line. The irony of the situation—of being rejected so soundly by a child Quinn should know intimately and love completely—was just more salt in her already gaping wound.

“What?” Quinn whispered as she joined Walker in the entryway, acutely aware of Lucy’s presence just around the corner.

“Lock the door behind me.”

“During the day? Are you serious? This is Key Lake, not California.” She didn’t tell him that growing up they hadn’t even known where the house key was. Even when the Sanfords went on vacation they left the garage door unlocked so that Macy could slip in to water their houseplants.

“Don’t be so stubborn,” Walker said, gripping her shoulders a little tighter than strictly necessary. “If Nora told you to keep Lucy hidden, to keep her safe, she’s obviously protecting her from something. Or someone.”

Quinn couldn’t help the tremor that passed through her. “Okay.”

“And don’t answer calls from any number you don’t recognize.”

“Walker . . .” she protested weakly.

“Promise me.”

“I promise. But . . .” She shrugged, dislodging his hands. “We don’t know what’s going on here.”

“Exactly. And we’re not taking any chances. I have my phone. Call or text if you need anything at all and I’ll be here in ten seconds flat.” Walker pressed a kiss to her cheek and then brushed the spot with the back of his knuckles as if to wipe the evidence away. “I love you.”

Quinn squeezed her eyes shut for just a moment after Walker was gone. Her heart felt like a battleground—and the fight was far from over. But she couldn’t think about any of that now. There was a child who needed her.

Reaching for the door handle, Quinn set the lock with a definitive click. She couldn’t decide if she was locking the proverbial bad guys out or locking herself and Lucy in. Neither thought was very comforting.

Lucy was still in the hallway where Quinn had left her. Still staring at the wall. Quinn knelt down to her eye level and gave Lucy what she hoped was a genuine smile. “Do you remember me? I’m Quinn, Nora’s sister . . .” She faltered.

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