Chapter 5

I want to say this, but I won't. I'm too old to be fooled—Tim Frost can't take me away from the orphanage. He won't be allowed to be my guardian, as Emma Smith once explained to me.

"If only he were married, then maybe, but as it is, he's a man, and you're a little girl. No one will trust him with you!"

If Tim ever marries someone else, I'll die of grief that very day. I told Emma so, and she turned completely white. I should stay here and let him wait until I turn eighteen and leave the orphanage.

"Look what's in there," Tim said, nodding at the box. I open it and gasp softly. There are little earrings with real stones. They're tiny, but they sparkle like real stars.

"Thank you!" I whisper, touched, and hug him again.

He smells of something familiar and warm. Like home. Tim strokes my head, and I could stand there forever. All eight years are left.

I want Tim to put the earrings in my ears, but Emma Smith sits down next to me and starts helping me.

"Tim," Anna Stevenson says as she peeks into the office. "Have you congratulated Ava yet? Come in and see me."

He nods to her, says goodbye, and leaves. Emma leads me to the mirror, and we examine the tiny stars in my ears together.

"This boy has good taste," the teacher says thoughtfully. I silently agree. Leya clicks her tongue, too. I know she wants earrings, too. Without a second thought, I hand her my old ones, the ones Mom bought me.

"Take these, Leya. These are for you."

I don't mind because I have two pairs and Leya has none. Her ears aren't pierced, but she's still happy.

She throws herself around my neck, then runs off to show the other girls.

I head back to my room but turn toward the headmistress's office on the way. If Tim is there, I'll ask him to pierce Leya's ears. Of course, he won't do it himself; he can ask Emma. Any hairdresser can do it. I'd take Leya myself, but I don't have the money.

When I enter the reception area, I see that the secretary is gone and hear the voices of Stevenson and Tim coming from the office.

I don't like eavesdropping, but it just happens. I hear my name and feel like my feet are glued to the floor.

"Why are you walking around, Tim? Why are you disturbing her?" Stevenson's voice isn't angry but tired. "Can't you see she's in love with you? This isn't a childish whim; those would have passed long ago. This has been going on for four years already."

"I can't leave her, Anna Stevenson," Tim's voice sounded muffled and forced. "Why won't they give her to me? I swear I haven't even considered it. She can't be here. She's such a homebody. My heart turns over when I think about her."

"Because you're a young, healthy man. Who in their right mind would give her to you? In a year or two, she'll start growing up. What will you do with her, considering what you do?"

"I'll hire a nanny, a governess, and various tutors. I'll take her to her clubs." "Get married, have kids, and hire nannies for them."

"But, Anna Stevenson, I—"

The headmistress spoke wearily. "Listen, Tim. The girl suffered such a tragedy. Her family was cut off. We never told her. She needs a good psychologist. You know how it is with psychologists here. They promised to send a new one. We'll wait and see if we get lucky with this one. Things are very complicated with Ava. Look what I found under her pillow. She wrote this to you, Tim."

My legs are going numb, and my fingers are cold. Her family was cut off. It feels like the ceiling is separating and falling on my head. I take a step forward and grab the door handle to keep from falling.

The door opens, and I see Tim holding my notebook, his face gloomy and sullen. He and Stevenson turn around, and for a second, Frost and I make eye contact.

I push the door hard and fly out into the hallway. Where does this strength come from?

"Ava!" I hear the director's demanding voice behind me.

"Ava!" a desperate cry echoes after me.

I run. Without looking where I'm going, I fly down the stairs and race toward the exit. The gate is locked. I scramble up the fence and jump down. I land like a cat, on all fours.

My skinned knees and palms burn as I fly out into the street and run.

They're gone. No one's gone. I knew long ago that no one had gone anywhere. But what's this? Where did it happen? In our apartment? What does this change for me?

I remember only fragments: the roar of an engine, the screech of brakes. A blue sky with a white cloud that looks like an elephant. It's hard to see because something warm and thick is running down his face.

I remember Tim's face contorted with fear as he leaned over me. He tried to say something but could only croak. I feel sorry for him.

Tim Frost never smiled—at least, no one ever saw him smile. I never saw him smile either, but I did see him cry once.