Free THIEF: Part 5 by Kimberly Malone Page B

okay now,” I tell him.“Just finished treatment a few weeks ago.In a month or so, they’ll tell me if I’m cured or not.But my prognosis is good.”
                  Silas brightens at this, just a little.“I should have been here for you,” he says.
                  I don’t agree or disagree; instead, I sit on a wooden trunk in the corner, arms folded, and nod at him.“You wanted to explain yourself.Now’s your chance.”
                  He nods, as if suddenly remembering why we’re really here.“I didn’t mean for you to get blamed for what I stole from the ranch,” he says, and when I roll my eyes, he adds, “I mean, I did at first.But I didn’t know anything about you, Erin—I saw some form on Juliet’s desk, about a new community service member coming in, and I knew if anyone did notice the money missing, it’d get pinned on the new serve.
                  “I didn’t know it was you.We got community people there all the time.”Silas starts to pace again, his footsteps muffled by the blankets and curtains pooling on the floor.“I started stealing the money before I even met you.The first morning you arrived.Piece by piece.”
                  “You could have stopped.Like…shit, I don’t know, when you asked me out on a date, maybe?When you realized you liked me?”
                  “I wanted to, but it was already on its way to Mexico.”
                  I just stare at him.“On its way…to Mexico.”
                  “Yes,” he nods, as though this doesn’t sound crazy to anyone but me.“I couldn’t have it in an account with my name, you know?So I was mailing it, a little at a time, to this guy there.A doctor.Actually, a…plastic surgeon.”
                  Suddenly, it all clicks into place.“To fix Emma’s eye.”
                  Silas moves a few feet forward, his eyes pleading with me to understand.“For years I’ve been to doctor after doctor.All of them refused to operate on her—said it just wasn’t possible to fix her eye socket, even for a glass eye to fit.”
                  “But then you found one who would.”
                  He nods again, jittery, as though he’s been dying to find someone to tell this to.“Not just reconstructive, Erin,” he whispers, pulling a wooden stool up.He sits, our knees touching.“This doctor said he could replace the entire socket and eye—even the hair for her lashes and eyebrows.”I think I see tears forming across his eyes, but the dim light makes it hard to tell.“I just had to come up with the money—and I did.A little at a time, from every place I’ve ever worked.I robbed neighbors that went out of town.I sold just about everything I owned.Stopped paying all the bills I could, sold my car and bought a piece of shit.”
                  “This miracle doctor doesn’t come cheap, huh?”
                  Silas glances at me.“He can make her normal, Erin.This doctor can undo everything I did to her.”
                  Involuntarily, I picture the story Silas told me: how he got wasted, years back, and accidentally started the fire that burned his then-baby daughter.I met her before I even knew she was his, at the special education ranch where Silas and I worked.I can still remember her face, with or without the many kidnapping reports I’ve seen since Silas took off: her beautiful eye, a strange mix of green and blue and silver, in such stark contrast to the stretch of scarred, disfigured skin where her other eye should be.
                  “So is that where she is?” I ask him.“Mexico?”
                  “Not yet.”His knees jump and shake; I start to wonder when he slept last, or if he’s on drugs or drunk, or some combination of the three.“Finally got enough—I’m taking her as soon as I leave