Then they all laughed. Nem thought he must be a funny man who'd tell jokes and be kind, and she hoped he could stop her mother from crying. They might even become a family.

Something went wrong a month ago.

Alan's sense of humor disappeared. He often shouted for no reason. Then he began hitting her. She couldn't understand why, except that her just being in the apartment seemed to make him angry.

She'd tried hard to be a good girl because when he got mad, she wasn't the only one to suffer. Her mom had started crying in her bedroom again, and that broke Nem's heart.

Alan arrived home late every night these past weeks, and he didn't eat dinner with them much anymore. The evenings when it was just her and her mom were the best. In fact, she prayed he might stay away and never come back again.

She'd thought today might be one of those best days, until he appeared behind her, as if possessing superhero invisibility.

"Alan, don't!" her mom said. The words muffled and distant. Nem's hands flew to cover her head as she cowered against the kitchen wall.

Alan raised his palm, and she knew to run, dodging around him to get beyond his reach. She felt the air movement as he swiped at her, and yelped as his hand connected with her arm.

Twisting to the right, she slipped out of his clutch and ran to her room, where she slammed the door behind herself. She whirled about to fumble with the lock. When the mechanism clicked into place, a sense of relief flooded through her. She backed away, her gaze never leaving the door, gulping in mouthfuls of oxygen to fill her heaving chest.

Within seconds, Alan was knocking and banging so loudly she feared the door would crack and he'd smash through any second.

"Don't you run 'way from me brat. Lem-ee in!"

Nem stared at the only entry and exit to the bedroom. Her body shook as if she'd entered a freezer.

What should she do? Hide!

She scanned the room, but there was nowhere except her wardrobe or under the bed.

"If you don't open this fuckin' door I'm smashing it in, you little shit."

She looked at her arm where his hand had connected. A darkening bruise had formed around the red welt. He'd never been this angry, and she had no intention of letting him in.

She rushed across the room to pull out the cardboard box she'd stowed beneath the bed. As she peered inside, her galloping heart felt as if it would burst from her chest.

But everything was fine. Patch was there, curled in a tight ball of white and black fluff. He lay sleeping on the blanket she placed there earlier to keep him warm.

Nem planted a reassuring smile on her face and said, "Are you okay, little one?"

She reached in and stroked her small friend, who opened his eyes at her touch. He arched his neck to stare up at her, as if to say, Why d'you wake me?