Krys helped me to my feet. He looked more handsome than ever, a bit of stubble lining his strong jaw, blue eyes twinkling beneath a low-brimmed cap. His hand lingered awkwardly on mine, sending a current of electricity through me. Except we weren’t that way at all anymore, I remembered. The rejection washed over me anew. I took a step back. I had left the house hurriedly for my errand. My hair was not at all what it should be, my dress soiled at the hem from where I had knelt. I looked away, not meeting his eyes.

“This is an odd part of town for you,” he remarked. “What on earth are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” I said, stalling for time. Then I remembered my errand from the previous day. “I came for some cherries my stepmother needed.” The excuse was implausible since it was Sunday, but it was the best I could do.

“Doing Ana Lucia’s bidding?” He smiled. “That’s odd.” My dislike for my stepmother had been a joke between us many times. Now it seemed too personal, not his place.

“I was just trying to be helpful,” I said coldly, not wanting to laugh with him anymore.

“I can help you find some,” he offered.

“That isn’t necessary. I’ll manage,” I said, holding together my pride. “Thank you.” There had been a time when I could have accepted his help, but now that seemed like another life.

He looked down, shuffled his feet. “Ella, about yesterday... I wish you would let me explain.”

“That’s all right,” I said quickly, cutting him off. “I’d rather not.” The last thing I wanted was a long list of excuses as to why his new life no longer included me. Krys had not changed his mind. Rather, he was just trying to justify his decision not to be with me anymore. Discussing it further was a pain I didn’t need.

We stood looking at one another for several seconds, neither speaking. His eyes traveled over my shoulder. Following his gaze, I could see that there was a Polish policeman on the corner, watching us. “You need to take care, Ella,” Krys said. “Things are dangerous on the streets and getting worse.” He was still concerned about me; that much was clear. But not enough to want to be together.

“We should go,” I said.

“Ella...” he began. But what else was there to say?

“Goodbye, Krys.” I turned away from him, not wanting to watch as he left me behind once more.

8

Sadie

When the man appeared above the grate and started talking to the girl on the street, I jumped back into the shadows. Ella, he had called her. The name rolled off my tongue like a musical note. I was not able to hear the rest of their conversation, but I could tell from her expression and the way that they stood close to one another that she knew him well and liked him—or once had anyway.