Free Of Delicate Pieces by A. Lynden Rolland Page B

white glow surrounded her. And she gazed at Alex in sparkling adoration. His apprehension derived from his fear about what Alex would do when this child left.
    He tried to sound normal. “Duvall said she knew her?”
    Alex nodded. Her fingers toyed with the girl’s silky hair. “She said she comes in and out of the city sometimes.”
    “And you picked her up and brought her home?”
    “Something scared us, so we needed to get out of there.”
    “Something?”
    “We can’t remember what it was.”
    He rubbed his jawline. “Something scared you, and you didn’t consider that it might be the three-foot ghost crawling up your leg?”
    “It wasn’t her. We couldn’t remember because we were dealing with the tree bark that goes into Thymoserum. Forget-me trees, Duvall said. They botch your memory.”
    Chase suspected there was more to the story. “What is she?”
    “Skye called her a Lost One. Duvall called her Rae.”
    Rae stretched out her legs on Alex’s bed, her bare feet overlapping one another. She clasped her hands on her lap. The more lovable she appeared, the more concerned Chase became. She had baggage with her, unhappy blue circles around her heart. She brought her pain and suffering, and it was ruining Alex’s room.
    “What the hell is a Lost One?”
    Alex retracted in response to his tone. “Duvall said children this young are considered lost because they never stay in one place for very long.”
    “Didn’t Ellington tell us that the little ones couldn’t control their emotions?”
    “Duvall said she’s old. She’s had plenty of time to tame her feelings.”
    “She’s been here before?”
    “Yeah. She wanders around the woods or sticks to the ABC room, but apparently she likes me. Are you okay if she stays here?”
    No . “It isn’t up to me.”
    “Of course it is.”
    “We’re two different people, Alex.”
    “I want to know what you think.”
    “I think you’ll get attached. And then she’ll leave.”
    And I’ll have to feel your heart break.
    Maybe it stemmed from the way her father treated her when she was alive, but Alex took in strays like an old lady, the kind with five hundred cats. One time, a beagle puppy found its way into the Lasalles’ yard, and when the owner came looking for it, Alex howled in agony and cried for an entire week. He didn’t understand how someone could have so many tears. Through broken bones and dislocated joints, he rarely saw her cry. Her body must have kept all those tears bottled up inside, waiting for something ridiculous like this. Because of Alex’s reaction, Chase’s mother nearly broke down and bought Alex a dog—even though his mother was allergic—just because Alex was so inconsolable. What would happen when this child left?
    “Do you have to take care of her?”
    Alex fiddled with her fingers. “She usually lives on her own, Chase. She doesn’t need anyone to care for her. She followed me. That’s all.”
    He sat down in the armchair and hunched forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. “What else did Duvall tell you?”
    He realized he was speaking in a very cautious tone, walking on eggshells, his mother used to say. Those eggshells crackled loudly enough for Alex to hear.
    She took a step away from him and closer to the kid. “They’re rare. Children this young don’t usually end up here.”
    “In Eidolon?”
    “In the afterworld. They pick the bright light instead.”
    Rae shifted to sit on her heels, her hands still clasped in her lap as though she was praying. The innocence of it made Chase wonder why the world would punish a child so young.
    Alex gasped. “You think this is punishment? Being here?”
    Damn , his thoughts must have filtered into her head. Chase held up his hands in defense. “See. That’s why you need to stay out of my mind unless you’re invited. Knock first. That’s not what I meant at all. This life is obviously not a punishment for me.”
    Alex hugged her arms around her torso.
    “You