With blades of grass between my toes, I stood beside Janet. Round and round, she pumped the broomstick up and down, as if trying to keep my shirts and pants from escaping. The water smelled of something so harsh that it stung my eyes and nostrils worse than raw onions. I could not bring myself to look away and stood there as she drowned my clothes, watching my shirt bleed red pigment into the milky water.

Chapter 30

I walked back to the house, my eyes burning with tears. I was lucky Janet hadn’t taken the clothes off my back or she might have found the ring in my pocket. I needed to find a new place to hide it for now. From the corner of my eye, I thought I saw Everett walk past the opening between the kitchen and the living room. I stayed back to avoid him and moved toward the stairs when I didn’t hear footsteps.

Just as I opened the door to the bedroom, I heard a click behind me. I whirled around to see a boy and a girl watching me from the half-open door across the hall. The girl looked to be a couple of years older than me and had sharply cut bangs. The boy was younger, perhaps in his first or second year of school. These were the children Janet had said were playing in the neighborhood. It must have been their footsteps I’d heard when Ann had left.

“What’s your name?” the boy whispered. He had freckles across his cheeks and nose and hair the color of a setting sun. When I didn’t answer, he repeated his question. He looked harmless, and I was desperate to feel a little less alone.

“Sita—” I paused, then righted myself. “Aryana.”

“Aryana,” he said. “That’s a funny name. My name is Gabriel. This is Shawna.”

As if he were crossing a busy road, Gabriel looked both ways before stepping into the hallway.

“I’ll be your friend,” Gabriel said. “But only if you’re nice. Are you nice?”

It felt like a thousand years since I’d spoken to another child. I nodded, hoping that Gabriel would keep talking. Shawna lingered in the doorway, pinching her bottom lip between two fingers.

“Don’t get in trouble,” Gabriel wasted no time in warning me. “They don’t like noise or a mess. I heard her tell you that already. Everett doesn’t like it if you talk about baseball or fish. He likes you if you pray to God a lot. Can you do that?”

I nodded.

“That’s good. Is this your first foster home?”

I didn’t know what a foster home was, but this was my first of anything in America so I nodded again.

“Can’t you talk?” he said, his head cocked.

“Yes, I can speak English,” I said, but careful as I was with my pronunciation, Gabriel’s face twisted in confusion.