She was lighter than I expected.
I lifted her out first, then her sister.
Both immediately grabbed my legs.
Their hands clutched the fabric of my jeans so tightly that I could feel their fingers shaking.
“My name is Carla,” I said. “What’s yours?”
The girl in yellow whispered, “Lily.”
Her sister answered, “Lucy.”
“Lily and Lucy,” I repeated. “All right. Let’s go inside.”
I tried not to look toward the house again as I guided them up my driveway.
Once inside, I locked the front door.
The click of the deadbolt made both girls flinch.
That frightened me more than anything they had said.
I brought them into the kitchen, gave them water, and put a plate of crackers and sliced strawberries on the table.
They stared at the food but did not touch it until I sat down several feet away.
“You can eat,” I assured them.
Lucy grabbed a strawberry.
Lily copied her.
Within seconds, they were eating so quickly that I wondered when they had last had a proper meal.
“Where’s your mommy?” I asked.
Both girls stopped chewing.
Lily looked at Lucy.
“Is your mommy next door?”
No answer.
“Your daddy?”
Lucy shook her head.
That was when I realized I had no idea who the man and woman next door actually were.
I reached for my phone.
Lily immediately slid off her chair.
“No!”
I stopped.
“It’s okay.”
“No police,” she said, panic rising in her voice.
“Why not?”
“He said police take bad girls away.”
My stomach tightened.
“Who said that?”
Lily’s eyes filled with tears.
“Him.”
Before I could ask another question, a heavy thud came from next door.
Both girls ducked beneath the table.
A second later, a man’s voice carried faintly through an open window.
“Lily! Lucy!”
The girls began trembling.
I shut the window and pulled the curtain closed.
