Pale Phoenix by Kathryn Reiss Read Free Book Online Page B

do. But I was cold, and the house was empty. At first I meant to stay only a couple of days, until—well, until I could find somewhere else to live. I shopped for food with the money I had left and used my sleeping bag and stuff I'd brought from Baltimore to set up house in the kitchen there. It's the warmest room. After a few days I realized that people were trying to fix up the house and set up a museum or something, and then when I went to school, I learned about the restoration project. I made sure to take all my things out early each morning and hide them in the crawl space under the back porch." She paused and looked at the Brownes as if defying them to comment. "But then a couple days ago people from the Historical Society changed the locks on all the doors. The new locks, they're much stronger and, well...." Her voice trailed off.
    "Pick-proof?" suggested Philip drily.
    "Well, yes."
    "So where have you been sleeping?" Helen asked, her voice gentle.
    Abby glanced up from beneath her pale lashes. "Under the porch where I'd hidden my stuff," she said softly. "I thought it would be out of the wind there. But it's awfully cold. I've been hanging out at the library until it closes, then walking around the streets to keep warm until I'm tired enough to sleep. My sleeping bag is pretty good. But then I ran out of money. I had to take food from school."
    "And from the corner grocery," said Miranda.
    Abby shot her a venomous glance. "Only once. But I never," she hastened to add, looking back at Miranda's parents, "broke into anyone's car before. I hate to steal from people—it seems different with big stores, or the cafeteria. I didn't think anyone would miss the food. I mean, I know it's still wrong, but it's just awful to be hungry and cold...."
    Helen looked near tears. She reached over to put her arm around Abby's thin shoulders and hugged her. "The morning we nearly hit you, it seemed you fainted in front of the car. Was that because—?"
    Abby nodded, her face clouded. "I hadn't eaten in two days. I tried to sell some of my old things—from my grandfather's house, I mean—at the flea market to get some money. But I sold only one brooch. For three dollars! And it wasn't even really mine to sell, so that was stealing, too. I finally realized I'd have to steal to survive."
    Miranda had to admit to herself she was impressed with Abby's resourcefulness. But her father was frowning.
    "Abby, there are children's services," he said. "Social workers, lawyers, teachers. Any one of them would be glad to help you."
    Abby's expression was bleak. "No. I don't want anything to do with them."
    "Listen, of course the things from your grandfather's house were yours to sell. And if you're the only member of your family still alive, as you seem to believe is the case, then surely you'd inherit his house anyway. There might be plenty of money coming to you. You need a lawyer, like it or not."
    Abby pressed her lips together and shook her head. After a moment Philip shrugged. "Well, how long were you planning to live like an outlaw?" he asked drily.
    She sent him a shy look from beneath her lashes. "I didn't really have a plan," she murmured. "Of course, I knew I couldn't go on for long like this. I suppose I'll move on again when the snow stops. It's always hard to travel in the winters, even when I have some money."
    Miranda sat there, puzzling over Abby's story. The girl made it sound as if she had often had to travel in cold winters. There was something about Abby's account that didn't sound right to Miranda. But she couldn't think what it was.
    Abby closed her eyes and rested her thin hands atop the tablecloth. "It feels good to tell someone after so long." She opened her eyes then and looked right into Philip's. "I know I was wrong to break into your car for the food, and I know you're going to call the police after all, and I'll end up in a children's home...."
    "Oh, no," began Helen.
    "Not so fast," said Philip at the