5. Lena

5

LENA

NINE YEARS OLD

I walk quietly to where Talon is sitting alone in the backyard. His face looks hurt from what happened yesterday, and even though he seems cold and mean, I want to help him feel better. “Hey, Talon,” I say softly as I sit beside him on the grass. “I’m sorry about what happened yesterday. Are you okay?”

He scoffs, turning his ice-blue eyes on me like a glare. “I don’t need your pity, kid. Just leave me alone.”

His words sting a bit, but I want to keep trying. “I just thought we could be friends,” I say, hoping he won’t be so mean.

Talon stands up suddenly, towering over me. “Listen, Lena, I don’t do friends. I don’t need anyone, especially not some little girl who thinks she can fix everything with a few kind words.”

Tears well in my eyes, but I blink them away so he won’t see me cry. “I was just trying to be nice,” I mumble, my lip quivering.

“Well, don’t bother. Nice gets you nowhere in this world.” He walks away, leaving me all by myself.

I sit on the grass and hug my knees, feeling super lonely. I don’t understand why Talon is so mean. I only want a friend to talk to and maybe even play with. But he just wants to push me away.

My heart feels heavy, and tears spill down my face while I think of my parents. I remember how my mom hugged me tight, and my dad made the silliest jokes that always made me giggle. And now they’re gone forever, and I’m stuck in this strange place where nobody seems to care about me.

I miss my old school with its bright colors and friendly teachers. I think about my best friend, Emily, and how we used to whisper secrets to each other during recess. Ever since I got taken into foster care, I haven’t been allowed to see any of my friends. I even miss the boys who pulled my pigtails. At least they were familiar faces in a world I understood.

Now, everything feels different. The Wilsons’ house is cold, and it doesn’t feel warm or welcoming at all. Mrs. Wilson barely even looks at me, and Mr. Wilson dislikes me. Jamie, their son, isn’t around much. Then there’s Talon, with his scary eyes and mean words that hurt my heart.

I try to hold back my tears and be strong, but the sadness feels too big. I bury my face in my hands, letting the sobs shake my shoulders as I cry and cry.

I don’t know how long I sat there. My eyes feel all sore and puffy, and my throat hurts, but eventually, I’m just left empty and tired. I wipe my face with my hand and take a shaky breath to get it together.

Jamie clears his throat behind me. “You should be careful sitting out here doing nothing.”

I swallow hard. Jamie isn’t exactly friendly to me or Talon, but I notice he’s meanest when he’s with his father. “Why?” I ask.

He looks toward the house and then back at me. “If my dad sees you lounging around out here…” He trails off because we both know what happens. I’ll get the same treatment Talon got yesterday.

I know I can’t let Mr. Wilson see me like this; crying out here. I don’t want him to think I’m weak or that he can pick on me more. It’s become clear already that they don’t like weakness.

I stand up, brush the grass off my jeans, and take deep breaths to calm myself down. “Why warn me?”

Jamie shrugs. “I know I’m mean to you sometimes, but it’s what my father expects. He expects me to be on his side.” I notice the way his shoulders slump. “The best thing to do is keep busy and try and stay out of his way.”

“I’ll remember that,” I murmur before returning inside.

I know I can’t let the Wilsons see me like this. I don’t want them to think I’m weak or that they can pick on me more. It’s become clear already that they don’t like weakness. So I stand up, brush the grass off my jeans, and take deep breaths to calm myself down.

As I turn to go back inside, I catch a glimpse of Talon watching me from the kitchen window. I freeze for a second, and our eyes meet. I think I see a flicker of something in his gaze—maybe sympathy or understanding? But then he looks away, and the moment fades.

I lift my chin and walk back into the house, determined to find a way to get through this strange new life, even if it means being alone.

I try to be super quiet when I step inside, but I almost run right into Mr. Wilson when I turn the corner. He glares down at me, his eyes narrow, and his face gets all red like a volcano about to erupt.

“What were you doing outside, girl?” he growls, his voice dripping with angry words. “There are chores to be done in this house, and you’re just wasting time!”

My heart races, and I stammer out an apology. “I-I’m sorry, Mr. Wilson. I just needed some air. I didn’t mean to?—”

But he interrupts me with a hard slap across my face that sends me stumbling backward. Tears spill out as I clutch my stinging cheek, too shocked to even cry out right away.

“You ungrateful little brat,” he hisses, raising his hand again like he’s going to hit me more. “I’ll teach you to slack off.”

I brace myself, expecting it to hurt again, but it doesn’t happen. Instead, I hear a loud breath and a smack. I open my eyes and see Talon standing before me, looking all tense with his fists balled up at his sides.

“Leave her alone,” he growls, his voice deep and protective. “She didn’t do anything wrong.”

Mr. Wilson’s face turns an even darker shade of red, and he spins around to yell at Talon. “You dare to defy me, boy?” he shouts, grabbing Talon by the collar. “I’ll teach you respect!”

He pushes Talon against the wall, hitting him in the face hard. Talon grunts but doesn’t cry. He just keeps his eyes glued to Mr. Wilson.

I’m frozen in shock, while Mr. Wilson repeatedly hits Talon. It feels like forever, and even though it’s horrible, Talon just takes it. He’s really tough, but it hurts me to see him getting hurt for me.

Finally, Mr. Wilson steps back, all huffy like he’s just run a race. “Let that be a lesson to both of you,” he spits, wiping his bloody knuckles. “Now get back to work.”

He stomps away, leaving Talon and me alone in the hallway. I rush over to Talon, my hands hovering over his bruised face.

“Why did you do that?” I whisper, my voice shaky. “I thought you hated me. You told me to toughen up but jumped in to protect me twice. I don’t get it.”

Talon looks at me, and I see something I don’t understand in his eyes. “I don’t hate you, Lena,” he says, wincing as he tries to sit up. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

I watch him walk away, his shoulders bent and fists clenched tight. I want to thank him for standing up for me, but the words get stuck in my throat. One minute, he’s all cold and pushing me away, and the next, he’s taking a beating for me. It’s confusing.

I get to my feet, wincing because my cheek still hurts where Mr. Wilson slapped me. I remember that short moment when I thought he understood how I felt. Maybe Talon isn’t just mean—maybe he’s alone, too.

A tiny spark of hope fills my heart. Could he be my friend, after all? We could help each other in this scary new world. It won’t be easy—Talon seems to want to keep me away, and I’m still so sad about my parents—but having someone who gets what I’m going through makes me feel a little better.