Page 7 of Goose's Wren

My bag is still there, tucked beneath my blanket, zipped tight around the only pieces of myself I’ve managed to keep hidden from him.

I check the front pocket and my stomach knots when I see the cash is gone.He must’ve rifled through it while I was too out of it to fight back.

Luckily, I’m not stupid.I never keep all of it in one place anymore.

There’s a stash hidden under a loose board in the bathroom.Folded bills in a plastic sandwich bag.Just enough to scrape by.

I make my way to the tiny bathroom and flick open the moth eaten curtain covering the small window to let light in.The mirror is cracked, but the reflection doesn’t lie.

My cheekbone is red and swollen, the outline of his hand faint but clear enough to know exactly what happened.

I sigh, grabbing the cheap concealer from my makeup bag.It’s not the right shade, and it doesn’t do much, but I dab it on anyway.

No one who’s paying attention would be fooled.But most people in White Summer know how to look the other way.I should know.I grew up here.

I pull a clean old black tee with the sleeves cut off over my head and comb through my hair with my fingers pulling it into a messy ponytail.My sunglasses go on last, the thick black frames big enough to cover most of the damage.

Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I step out into the morning light, the sun already giving fair warning it's going to be a blistering day out.

I need coffee.Real coffee.Not that instant crap I’m sure we still have a little of in the trailer.

That means going to Bella’s Brew.The little shop in town that I remember smelling like sugary pastries.

Bella was always kind, even when I was just “Sparrow’s little sister.”She might remember me.Or she might not.

Either way, I need caffeine and a few minutes in a place that doesn’t stink of rotting floorboards and desperation.

And after that...I need to figure out who’s hiring.

Tips are my only shot at keeping something for myself.Something Tim doesn’t know about.Something he can’t take after he’s beat me.

Because if I don’t find a way to make a little money of my own I may never find a way to get away from him.

The thirty minute walk to town seems to take forever.I’m not used to being without my bike.Back in the city everything was close to the apartment.

Rounding a corner, I spot the sign for Bella’s on the door across the street and hurry over to it.

The bell over the door jingles as I push it open, and I inhale deep.God, it smells incredible in here.Warm vanilla, roasted espresso and something sweet baking in the back.

The air-conditioning is a soft contrast to the already rising heat outside, and for a moment, I just stand there, letting it all soak in like I’m starving for it.

The place hasn’t changed much.Chalkboard menus, mismatched mugs, cozy booths.It feels like it belongs in a bigger town, but somehow it works here in White Summer.

I spot Bella immediately behind the counter.She’s still effortlessly gorgeous in that earthy, boho kind of way, with soft waves in her dark hair and a fitted vintage tee tucked into ripped jeans.

She’s wiping down the counter while chatting with another woman.

The other woman is blonde, with confident eyes and a cowboy-casual vibe that enhances how beautiful she is.Boots, denim shirt knotted at the waist, the kind of look that says she could run a ranch and still bake you a pie.

Bella glances up when the bell rings again and her eyes land on me.Her smile falters just a hair before she plasters it back on.

“Hey there!”she says, setting down the rag.“Welcome to Bella’s Brew.”

She says it like she doesn’t recognize me.Maybe she doesn’t.It has been years.

But then she tilts her head, her smile softening into something more curious.

“...Wren?”

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