“I swear to you, Eliza,” Hannah promised.“All of us will make sure Lily is as happy and carefree as we can possibly make her.No matter what.”
As Hannah and Lana moved back toward the stairs, I lingered in the doorway.Eliza turned to look at me, her exhaustion written in the shadows beneath her eyes.
“Thank you,” she said simply.
“No need,” I replied, uncomfortable with her gratitude.“Get some rest.I’ll be around if you need anything.You have my number.Use it.For anything.”
She nodded, her gaze returning to the inside window where she could see Lily playing below with the other children inside the main room.The tension in her face softened slightly at the sight of her daughter smiling for what might have been the first time in days.
I moved away from the door, giving her the privacy she needed.As I descended the stairs, I couldn’t shake the feeling I was leaving something important behind.Every instinct told me to stay close, to protect them from whatever might come next.The strength of my feelings troubled me as I headed back to the compound.All I’d wanted when I’d first met Lily was to see her happy and to not be in pain.Now, the image of Eliza standing alone in the room, shoulders squared against everyone who’d failed her, lingered in my mind long after I’d left Haven and gone back to my own apartment at the compound.
* * *
I checked my watch as I pushed through the security door of Haven four days later.My shift patrolling the perimeter wouldn’t start for another hour, but I found myself drawn to the building more often than necessary lately.The atmosphere inside had shifted since I’d last visited two days ago.Voices and laughter spilled from the communal kitchen, a change from the usual quiet caution hanging over the place.Children darted through the hallway, their feet pattering against the concrete floor as they carried construction paper and markers toward the common area.The smell of fresh coffee and some kind of sugary goodness baking filled the air.I followed the sounds to find Eliza standing on a chair in the kitchen, pinning colorful hand-drawn flyers to the bulletin board, her movements more fluid than I remembered, as if some of the weight had lifted from her shoulders.
“A little higher on the left,” one of the resident mothers called from below, pointing at something on the bulletin board.“Perfect!”
Eliza adjusted the paper, securing it with another thumbtack before climbing down.Her hair hung in a loose ponytail, wisps framing her face.The dark circles under her eyes had faded slightly, and though caution still lined her movements, she moved with growing confidence through the kitchen space.
She hadn’t noticed me yet, giving me a rare moment to observe her without her guarded expression sliding into place.The flyers announced “Kids Karaoke Night” in bright bubble letters, decorated with music notes and stars drawn in different hands.Some clearly belonged to the children, others showed the practiced precision of adult work.
“Cash!”Lily’s voice rang out as she spotted me from across the room.She broke away from a group of children coloring at the table and hurried toward me, her immobilized arm no longer seeming to slow her down as much.The pink cast on her other arm had collected signatures and drawings from her new friends in both Haven and the kids living at Kiss of Death, transforming the medical necessity into something almost cheerful.
Eliza turned at her daughter’s voice, her gaze finding mine.For a moment, I caught a glimpse of her unguarded expression before it disappeared behind her usual careful smile.
“You came!”Lily beamed up at me.“Are you going to sing at karaoke tonight?I know you sing good.”
I raised an eyebrow at Eliza, who busied herself with straightening the already-aligned flyers on the bulletin board.“I’m not much for performing these days, kid,” I replied, crouching down to Lily’s level.“How’s the shoulder feeling?”
“Better,” she reported seriously.“Mom does the exercises with me the doctor showed us.And Hannah made me a special pillow to help me sleep without hurting it.”
Eliza moved toward us, wiping her hands on her jeans.“The specialist called this morning,” she said quietly.“We have an appointment next week.They’re expediting everything because of…” She glanced down at Lily, clearly not wanting to mention the social services case in front of her daughter.
I nodded, understanding.“Lana’s good at making things happen.She’ll go with you.”
“We’re having karaoke tonight,” Lily informed me, bouncing slightly on her toes.“Mom used to sing at a bar when she was younger.She’s teaching us all how to use the microphone right.”
This new piece of information about Eliza caught me by surprise.I looked at her with renewed curiosity.“Is that right?”
A flush crept up Eliza’s neck.“Just weekend gigs to pay for college,” she said dismissively.“Usually bars who couldn’t get the up-and-comers.Nothing special.”
Two women appeared from the storage room carrying folding chairs, which they began arranging in the common area.Eliza excused herself to help them, leaving me with Lily, who continued chattering about the upcoming event with more animation than I’d seen from her yet.
“Mom says I can sing ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’ with Brynn,” she explained, pointing to a girl a few years older than herself sorting through a stack of CDs.“And we’re going to have juice and cookies after.”
The security door buzzed, and Hannah and Lavender, Brynn’s mother, entered carrying a plate of cookies covered in plastic wrap.Lily spotted them immediately and her face lit up.
“Lavender!”she called, waving the arm not in a sling enthusiastically as best she could.“You brought cookies like you promised!”
Lavender set the cookie plate on a nearby table as the girls hurried to them.The two had met the previous day when Knight had brought his family to visit Haven, and they’d bonded instantly despite their age difference.At eleven, Brynn was considerably older than six-year-old Lily, but the girls had connected over shared medical experiences which included a great distaste for needles in all forms.
“Mom made chocolate chip cookies for karaoke,” Brynn announced as she and Lily helped themselves to the cookies.“And I helped decorate them with sprinkles.”
The two girls huddled together, whispering and giggling as they flipped through a binder of song options one of the women had compiled.I watched in amusement as the two began planning their performance.God, I remembered those days in my childhood.Before everything got so serious with my music.When I sang for the pure joy of performing.
I leaned against the doorframe, content to observe without interrupting.Lily’s laughter rang out as Brynn showed her how to hold the microphone properly, both girls dissolving into giggles when the feedback squealed.Eliza glanced up at the sound, her eyes softening as she watched her daughter.Her fingers unconsciously tapped along to the music playing softly through the speakers they’d just set up.
I watched as the people in Haven worked their particular magic, creating space for otherwise traumatized individuals and families to take a breath and live in the moment and to begin healing.But even as I felt satisfaction at seeing them settle in, an unexpected pang of sadness twisted in my gut.Here, Eliza and Lily had found community, other women and children who understood their struggles.My presence was becoming less necessary with each passing day.I should have been relieved.Instead, I found myself wondering where I fit in this new picture they were creating for themselves.Or if I even had the right to imagine being in their lives.