In the morning light I tidy up and make breakfast for us both. Scrambled eggs, toast, coffee, and a
smile as Sophie wanders through already dressed in jeans and a hoody, with sneakers. Her hair in a
boyish ponytail. She’s an early riser like me.
She sits awkwardly at the table as though she feels like she should be helping, but I brush it away with
a warm beam and put her plate and mug in front of her. I genuinely like the girl; even in such a brief
time, there’s something about her. I sit down to face her and let her eat for a few minutes whereas I can
only pick at mine. My appetite is gone knowing we’re going to see my mother this morning. Teenage
anxiety in full force.
“So, Sophie, tell me about you … How did you end up here in Sunnyside?” I keep my tone bright and
easy knowing if she’s as guarded a person as me, then she will never open up if I don’t tread carefully.
She hesitates.
“I ran away from home … I had enough money to get on a bus and I just chose the first one … It
brought me here, and I found the homeless shelter.” She avoids looking at me while she speaks, the
telltale tinge of color high on her cheeks. She’s trying to sound nonchalant, but her body language
gives her away. Her fork rattles lightly showing her hands are trembling.
“Who, or what, were you running from?” I coax gently, lifting my mug and sipping slowly. Trying not to
stare, trying to act like I’m engrossed in my mug instead. I used to hate coffee, but somehow Jake, like
he does with everything else, got me used to it. It reminds me of him.
“My dad …” She flushes, fully red in the face and shifts in her chair. I bite my lip, holding back the
feeling that rises inside of me; a deep heavy pit of sadness for this girl as I click on why that might be.
Showing too much emotion will make her clam up but showing any form of sympathy will only bring her
walls up fast.
“Physical or sexual?” I can almost see into her soul instantly and I can’t tear my gaze from her. I can
sense that she doesn’t want to shut me out, even though it’s hard for her to say the words. She’s
offering me a slight insight although she shudders. I hit the nail on the head.
“Both.” A single tear edges its way out from her eye, and she brushes it away, tightening her face,
reigning in the pain, and replacing it with a defiant look. She’s like a mirror image to my teen Emma and
seeing it on someone else for the first time causes me so much conflict. My heart breaks for her.
Is this what Jake sees when I let him in, only to close that door? Do I do that? Look hopeless and
vulnerable, then shut it down with fire and aggression.
I swallow hard, pushing the thought away and focus on her face.
“They haven’t tried to find you?” I probe gently, trying to feel out the situation and not pondering on
what she wouldn’t want me to pick at. My throat tight with feeling.
“My mother told me to go … She gave me what money she had so I could get far away from him.” She
still can’t make eye contact and the rage inside of me swells on her behalf. A mother just like mine, yet
she had the misfortune to fall into the lap of another, who would never protect her.
“What are your plans now that you’re here?” I push on, wanting to know if she has tied herself to my
mother for the long-term.
“Jocelyn enrolled me in school, but we never really decided on how long I would stay; indefinitely, I
guess. I don’t have anywhere else to go so until I finish school I ‘ll be here.” She sips her coffee and
comes to glance back at me, full on wide-eyed mistrust. A deep weight hits low in my stomach,
knowing that for the foreseeable future she will be in my mother’s life, under her care. I just can’t.
“My mother is no good for you, Sophie … She’s not the protector and carer that she pretends to be …
This … Incident … It’s not a one-off.” I want her to understand that staying here will not benefit her in
any way. Her eyes flick to me quickly, and I’m hit with a moment of hesitation and fear; she thinks I’m
telling her she needs to go.
“Sophie, I would like to take you back to New York with me when I leave … I have friends who work
with abused children who can find you a better life than this.” I lock eyes sincerely, knowing I can’t let
the circle of abuse continue. I can’t let this girl have the life I had.
Jake’s mother helps run a charity for damaged children, she will know what to do, find her a shelter or
foster home and protect her. Jake would do that for me. I know without hesitation that he would do that
for Sophie if I asked him.
“I can’t just leave her … She needs me to help look after her. She was so kind to me and gave me a
room here, instead of at the shelter.” She protests with wide eyes, dropping her fork in alarm. Her panic
evident.
And there I see it, in her determined response. Emma shining through, that need to protect her, make
excuses, the guilt at leaving her. She really has woven her pathetic spell over this girl, just as she had
done to me all those years. I sigh dejectedly; I love my mother for the fact that she’s my mother, but I
don’t love who she can be. I shake my head apologetically.
“Sophie … My mother will always be a victim in her own life, because it’s the path she chooses over
everyone else. She’ll do it to you, no matter how much you do for her.” I reach out and cover her small
smooth hand with mine, relieved that she doesn’t pull away. “She maybe won’t be the one who hits
you, calls you names, abuses you, but she will stand by and let them and do nothing to protect you.
She’ll look at you like you’re to blame when she loses another precious man who can’t keep his hands
to himself.” I realize as my eyes fill with emotion that this girl is probably the first person in the world
that I’ve opened up to in this way, without coercion. Mini Emma. I’ll not leave her here when I go, I’ll
make her life something I always dreamed of. I can’t explain why the feeling is so powerful, but I know I
have to save her. “I can promise you, Sophie … I’m not her, I’m nothing like her … I’ll do everything in
my power to change your life and protect you.”
I swear, I will.
Sophie finally looks up at me and the silent message that passes between us, a bond between kindred
souls who recognize each other’s pain. Recognizing a fellow sufferer who understands. She nods as a
tear silently slides down her adorable face. There’s wetness on my own cheek as quenched emotion
slides out and it surprises me. She tightens her fingers into mine, that small gesture, an instant bond
between young teen Emma and mature adult Emma. I can see myself in her eyes, and she believes
my genuine concern and conviction. She’ll let me take her away from all of this, and at least save one
soul from the all-consuming energy that is my mother and her train wreck of a life.
* * *
The hospital is as every other in the state: clinical, white, and blue, sterile halls and rooms, and the
strong odor of chemicals with a dingy taint in the air. Sophie is holding my hand as we walk, and she
looks so noticeably young and afraid. My gut instinct is to haul her close to my side and place a
protective arm about her shoulders and the thought makes me smile. Who knew I was maternal? I do
exactly that and meet no resistance from her. Jake and his over-familiar, hands-on way of life has
turned me into a touchy-feely just like him but I’m not mad at it.
Does he see me this way? Is this why he’s so hands-on?
That strong urge to protect me, seeing glimpses of unsure scared Emma under the mask. The thought
warms me inside and I miss him so badly it aches in the depth of my stomach.
Sophie seems to relax in my embrace as we walk in companionable silence. We may only have just
met, but we both sense a deep instant connection with one another I’ve never felt with anyone else. It’s
almost as though I’ve just discovered a little sister, with my story to tell.
We finally enter the side room and I get my first glimpse of my mother. I release Sophie and she swiftly
goes to her bedside and lifts her hand tenderly. I can’t deny the genuine love I see in Sophie’s face, yet
I feel only irritation.
My mother’s appearance causes me to take a sharp intake of breath, but I steady myself to hide it. I
must be strong for the girl’s sake, be her rock, like no one ever was for me.
My mother’s face is swollen, bruised, and scraped up, almost beyond recognition. It makes me feel sick
to my stomach. Her left arm is in a cast and her body, concealed by covers and sheets, looks thinner
and more fragile than I remember. I scan the clipboard of notes quickly, able to determine that most of
her injuries are minor; the broken arm and concussion seem to be most of the worst. She moves as
she awakens and clasps Sophie’s hand, an attempt at a smile on her face. She hasn’t seen me yet and
I hold back.
“Emma is here.” Sophie breathes softly and looks toward me with a smile. Her blue eyes cloudy with
the strain of trying not to cry. It tugs at my heart as my mother’s face follows, breaking into a wuthering
smile when she sees me.
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