Page 47 of Waking Olivia

She’s quiet for so long that I begin to think she won’t answer. “I’d find my brother,” she finally says.

Her words take my insides and twist them in a tight grip. I don’t want to know this. I don’t want to know anything more about the soft side of Olivia than I do at the moment. I already know far too much.

“You realize you could probably find him just by going online,” I tell her.

She shakes her head, a motion so small it’s as if it wasn’t meant for me. “He could’ve found me if he’d wanted to.”

“So why do you need the money?” I ask.

“I just want to make sure he has what he needs,” she says quietly.

The look on her face when she speaks hurts my chest. “Do you really believe he’s still alive, Olivia?” I ask.

She looks away from me, her voice growing hard and intent. “My brother is crazy smart. And he was fast. He could outrun anyone. That’s how I know he got away.”

“Got away from what?”

“Anything that tried to stop him.”

“Like the thing you have nightmares about? Is that the thing?” I ask.

“He got away,” she says with finality, jumping to her feet, and she leaves the room.

After she leaves, I struggle to fall asleep. The look on her face and her insistence that her brother is okay haunt me. The way she clings to the idea feels desperate, perhaps even childlike. If I were to guess, I’d say that the reason she hasn’t looked for him has nothing to do with the fact that he doesn’t want her.

I’m still awake hours later, thinking about it. I’ve had my share of hard knocks. Everyone has. But nothing compared to what she’s suffered. I wish I could fix it. I wish I could fix every single wrong that’s been done to her. Get her out of that God-awful neighborhood, make the nightmares end, protect her from all the bad things that might lie in wait for her.

I wander into the room she shares with my mother and sit quietly at the desk. She looks so innocent when she’s asleep with her long lashes fanning her cheeks, her mouth slightly open.

“Why are you still up?” my mother asks.

“Worried,” I reply.

“She’s a sweet girl,” my mother sighs. “And she’s the only one who doesn’t realize it.”

My mother is right. Olivia seems to see only the worst things in herself. She believes she deserves nothing from anyone, yet something about her makes me want to give her everything.

“I wish I could fix things for her,” I tell my mother.

“You’re doing your best,” she replies. “But for now you really need to get some sleep.”

“I can’t. I’m too worried I won’t catch her in time if I’m in the other room.”

My mother hesitates, and then climbs to her feet. “Take my bed,” she says. “And I’ll go sleep in your room.”

“I don’t know,” I answer. “I realize I’m already breaking rules, but that seems so …”

“You have her best interests at heart,” she says. “I wouldn’t suggest it if I thought for a moment it was truly wrong.”

I’m just dozing off when Olivia begins to talk. Unintelligible words that sound young and distraught. The minute she flings the covers off I'm out of bed and beside her, my arm anchoring her while I do my best to convince her she’s okay. I shush her again and again, promising her she’s safe.

"It's just a dream. You're okay."

And something miraculous happens. She doesn't fight me. She jolts for a moment as if she's been shocked, and then she curls into me, her head pressed to my chest, her hands fisted tightly in my shirt as she cries, still sound asleep.

I hold her until her tears slow and then cease, and then something slightly less miraculous but still surprising happens.

I fall asleep too.

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