Page 71 of Borden 3

He looked at me, his dark eyes piercing mine with curiosity. “Other kids with houses burned down?”

“Well, maybe their houses weren’t burned down, but other things could have happened to them, and now they’re on their own, too. Maybe they’re lost like Koala Dan.” I picked up the tiny Koala and stared down at it, smiling faintly. “He’s a Lost Boy. Where’s his sister?”

Link handed me the koala figure in a pink tutu. “Yeah, I think she’s a Lost Girl. I think we might have other toys in here too that are lost.”

“Why do you call them lost?” he asked.

I heard the floor creak behind us. Borden’s footsteps were faint. I didn’t have to look over my shoulder to know he was either there or nearing. He filled the space up without having to look. Immediately, I felt my spine stiffen.

Continuing along, I kept my voice playful as I explained, “Because they haven’t found themselves. They’re sort of scared, right? I mean, Koala Dan and Koala Jan lost their home. They don’t know where to go. They feel sad and alone. They don’t know what their next step should be.”

Lincoln just stared blankly at me. Meanwhile, the figure behind us shifted. Borden’s voice cut through the air. “Emma.”

Just saying my name put me on edge. I couldn’t decipher his mood. He was not his cheery self, but he wasn’t outright furious either. I slowly put down the koalas. “I’ll be right back. I want the fire to be put out. Maybe build a hiding place for the koalas to sneak into?”

Link nodded excitedly and grabbed for his building blocks. I stood up and turned to look at Borden. He’d just come back from whatever the fuck he’d been up to today. In just a heavy black sweater, the arm sleeves rolled up, his powerful, tatted forearms on display. His hair was messy, like he’d run his fingers through it. His eyes were tired, his plump lips pressed together in an unimpressed line. He looked away from me the second I peered at him, and then ambled down the hallway to the bedroom.

So much seemed to be happening in this bedroom of ours. Happy things. Bad things. I was unsure of what to expect as I stepped into the room. The bed was still unmade. My clothes, both dirty and clean, were hanging off the dresser or on the floor. Yeah, I was behind on all these simple chores that suddenly felt more daunting than usual.

“Shut the door, Doll,” he told me, calmly.

Shit.

I shut it, but stayed close to the door, watching him as he ran a hand over his jaw. His blue eyes flashed to mine, and he stared long and hard. I looked back, determined not to let my nerves show.

“You want to tell me what happened.” It wasn’t spoken in a question. He just said it and stared at me, waiting.

I shrugged. “I’m sure Hector told you everything.”

His face didn’t break. He continued to just stare at me. Cold. Assessing. I fidgeted, unused to this behaviour. I still didn’t budge though. He wouldn’t intimidate me into submission. I wasn’t that kind of girl.

“You ask me to leave him be, and I did,” he finally spoke, his voice dangerously low. “And what do you do next? You go to a basement in a squatter type building and find this man you claim is your past right there in front of you.”

“I didn’t know he would be there.”

“But you went looking.”

I crossed my arms. “You didn’t leave him be, Borden. I know you. You retreat and then you dig hard.”

“Don’t make this about me right now. You went to a spot he turned out to be in. Explain.”

“Seeing him, having you push for answers, made me think of that spot. It was a trip down memory lane.”

“I don’t recall you ever talking about making trips to shitty basements in no-hope places like that.”

“I told you I had a rough childhood, Borden. I said I was out all the time. That’s what I did. Found shitty places to burrow into. Places I could escape from the world.”

“With him.”

“With him and others.”

“Lost kids.”

My cheeks warmed. He’d been listening in closely on my playtime with Link. How had he made that connection, though? It couldn’t have been that obvious.

“I want to know about that,” he added quietly. “About these lost kids.”

“It was just something we called ourselves.”

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