“I’m working,” the girl said firmly. “Bottles pay.”
“What’s your name?” Henry asked.
“Luna.”
The lie came too fast.
“How old are you?”
“Maybe twelve… I think.”
Henry and Marina exchanged a look.
Sophie would have been twelve.
“Are you hungry?” Marina asked softly.
The girl’s stomach answered before she could. Still, she tried to stand tall, defiant.
“We just want to buy you a meal,” Henry said carefully. “Somewhere safe. If you want to leave after, you can.”
A light rain began to fall. The girl glanced at her bag of bottles like it was the only certainty she had left.
After a long pause, she nodded.
In the car, she pressed herself against the door, watching every street sign like someone memorizing escape routes.
Marina noticed a small, faded mark on the girl’s left wrist.
A star-shaped birthmark.
Henry’s hands tightened on the steering wheel.
Sophie had one in the exact same place.
Their oceanfront penthouse in Coral Bay felt like another planet to the girl.
Crystal chandelier. Floor-to-ceiling glass. Air that smelled clean and expensive.
She froze at the doorway, unsure where to step.