Page 77 of Hidden Echoes

I should let it go. It wasn’t my business. But something inside me refused to ignore it.

“If someone hurt you, I can help.”

She let out a short, dry laugh. A humorless sound.

I didn’t know if she was laughing at my offer or just at the idea that anyone could actually help her.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything,” I said, keeping my voice light. “Just… tell me if you have somewhere to go back to.”

Nothing.

She stared at the ground, like if she waited long enough, I’d disappear.

And maybe I should have.

But I didn’t.

I leaned forward, resting my forearms on my knees. “Do you want me to leave?”

For the first time, hesitation flickered across her face.

Then, slowly, she shook her head.

No.

I let out a quiet breath and leaned back against the wall, closing my eyes for a moment.

I didn’t know what I was doing. But at least, for now, I was here.

I came back the next day.

And the day after that.

And the next one too.

I brought food—sandwiches, granola bars, anything I could grab without Taylor or my mom noticing. At first, she just took it and ate without a word. But little by little, things changed.

She started looking me in the eye when she reached for the food. Then came the small gestures—a nod, a quick glance.

I didn’t talk much at first, just small things. About the weather, how school was a waste of time, how Taylor pretended not to care but still made me lunch every day. Sometimes I talked about Kyle. About how much I missed him. About Abby.

I expected her to roll her eyes, to tell me I talked too much. But she just listened.

And after a while, I liked having someone to talk to about the little, unimportant things.

I couldn’t do that with my mom. Couldn’t even get close to her.

She never talked back, but I knew she was listening.

Until today.

I never thought my mom’s latest idiot boyfriend would be the reason she finally spoke.

My mom had a talent for picking losers who’d pay for her drugs while Kyle broke his back to keep the lights on. Sometimes those losers liked to take out their frustrations on whoever was closest. Usually, that meant me.

I preferred it that way. Better me than Taylor.

Today had been one of those days. I told the guy I wasn’t going to do his damn dishes, and that set him off. Kyle would’ve had my back, but Kyle wasn’t home. Someone had to work and put food on the table. And he couldn’t do that from jail. Because that’s exactly where he’d end up if he saw the bruises.

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