Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 124750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 624(@200wpm)___ 499(@250wpm)___ 416(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 624(@200wpm)___ 499(@250wpm)___ 416(@300wpm)
My feet bare, I took the stairs two at a time, being as quiet as I could as I made my way to the kitchen. I was hungry and remembered there being leftover brownie bites from our lunch. I opened the fridge, held onto the door, and peered inside, leaning in to get a closer look.
The brownies had disappeared.
Hmmm.
I looked harder.
So had the apple slices, the cheese, and Ada’s muffins.
My brow bunched. I wasn’t going crazy. I know I put them in there when we got back to the house. I even hid the brownies behind the juice so no one would touch them.
I checked again, looking deeper into the fridge than was necessary.
Nope. They were gone.
The fruit bowl sat on the kitchen counter, and although it had ripe bananas, shiny apples, and bright green pears in it, I wanted those damn brownies. So I started to search for them.
While I was downstairs, I went to check on Lidiya, and smiled when I saw Mirella sitting on the chair by her bed, reading. She spotted me and lifted her hand in a wave. I returned it, my eyes sweeping over the little princess sleeping soundly in her toddler bed.
That only left one place.
I made my way back up the stairs, but turned right and walked the length of the hall toward Lev’s office. He told me he went up there to work, but I had the sneaking suspicion he might also have another reason to go up there.
The door was open a crack, less than an inch, and I peeked inside.
I knew it!
I swung open the door and uttered a victorious, “Gotcha.”
Lev paused, a brownie bite halfway to his mouth.
My feet carried me over to his desk, where his laptop sat open. I took the brownie out of his hand, threw it into my mouth, groaned with pleasure as the bitter sweetness hit my tongue, and then straightened and garbled, “Oh, I’m sorry. Were you going to eat that strategically hidden brownie?”
His lips thinned and he glared at me. “Yes, I was.”
I had to cover my mouth and laugh by how put out he sounded. “I’m sorry. I know better than to take food from someone. On the streets, that kind of thing could get a person killed.”
His expression grew somber at the mention of my time without a home. “It’s okay.”
Without waiting for an invitation, mostly because I didn’t think I’d get one, I pulled out the guest chair and sat opposite him. I know it had only been a few days since I asked him, but I wanted to know if any progress had been made. “Any luck finding the Petersons yet?”
His jaw set, he pulled his laptop close and began typing. “No.”
I nodded slowly. “Okay.”
Suddenly, he shut the lid of the laptop and asked, “Why do you want to find them? Nastasia told me what they did, that they’re the reason you were homeless.” He paused. “They aren’t good people, Mina.”
Well, someone was a little judgey today. “You don’t even know them, Lev. They took me in when I was twelve years old, hating on the world, and they gave me a home.” I stressed, “One mistake doesn’t undo all the good they did. And, by the way, they didn’t force me into the street. I did that on my own.”
He leaned over the desk, his golden eyes hard. “Because they made you feel unsafe.”
True enough, but I wasn’t about to admit that. I shrugged, feeling helpless. “If you don’t want to help me find them, that’s fine. I’ll find someone else to help.” I stood, turning toward the door.
His voice had me stopping mid-step. “I can’t control the report, Mina. It might not be all good news. Do you understand that?”
Holding the doorframe, I kept my back to him and reiterated, “I just want them to know I’m okay.”
I didn’t listen for a response. My feet took me back to our room, where I spent the remainder of the afternoon lying on my back in the giant bed I had fallen in love with.
***
Mina
The night started off well. Learning that my shift behind the bar would be shared with the tall, African-American beauty with the crazy-beautiful afro, Birdie, rather than Anika, made me mentally cheer and do cartwheels.
I didn’t mind Anika, but we didn’t have a common interest…apart from Lev, of course. And I had a feeling we wouldn’t be seeing eye-to-eye on that matter.
Men flocked to the bar to be served, and although it was busy, Birdie and I kept it under control. During the night, I’d seen Birdie clink shot glasses with men and down them. She’d done this multiple times, and I wondered how she wasn’t stumbling over her feet. The girl could hold her drinks.
So when a group of men bought a round of shots and added an extra for me, I looked to Birdie. She smiled and nodded. So I went for it.