“It most certainly is a big deal!” She pulls a phone from her pocket. “I need to call the police. Do you remember what they looked like?”
“Mom, please listen to me, they ended up a lot worse than we did. If we call the police Caden could get in trouble. And all he was doing was protecting me, so I don’t want that. Plus, if Dad finds out about this he’ll never let me go out. Like, ever. So can we please drop this? Trust me, it’s what I want, and it’s what Caden wants as well.”
Daphne’s features soften. “Are you sure, Juliet?”
“I am.”
“Then it’s settled.” She places her hands on her hips and glares at me. “Jesus, Caden, you haven’t changed at all. Come with me, I’ll get you cleaned up for dinner. Richard!” she hollers. “Bring a shirt down from your closet.”
What does she mean I haven’t changed at all? Was the first Caden a troublemaker? Shouldn’t Kaylee have told me?
Richard pops his head out from the kitchen. He has Juliet’s round face, kind eyes, and brown hair that’s buzzed super short. “What?”
“You heard me! Now go. Caden, follow me. Juliet, set the table.”
I follow her down a long hallway. We walk to a small white-tiled bathroom. A shiver runs down my spine at the sight of the bathroom, so clean, so similar to the LIC. I pause at the doorway, my toes wiggling into the comforting softness of the hall carpet, the air in my lungs feeling cold and clammy. I recall my mirrored cell, the classes that felt like torture, and the constant feeling of dread that accompanied every single day at that accursed place.
Daphne is standing in front of a gold-framed mirror, riffling through a first aid kit. She looks up and narrows her eyes. She does it the exact same way Juliet does: an expression that is clearly supposed to look stern, but actually looks cute. “What are you doing? Get in here.”
I shrug my shoulders. I’m free now, and I’m never going back there, so there’s no need to panic.
I walk into the bathroom and stop in front of her. She steps closer and peers at the cut on my temple.
“It’s just a scratch. He was probably wearing a ring. Does your head hurt?”
Obviously.
“It’s not that bad,” I say.
She turns on the tap. “That’s a good sign. Now wash the blood off and then put this”—she hands me a Band-Aid—“on the wound. You’ll be fine. And be quick about it! I’m starving.” Richard passes her a shirt and then she passes it to me. I start to grab it.
Her grip on the shirt tightens. “Just so you know, Juliet’s life has been so peaceful since you left. You show up and one day later this happens. I’m starting to think you’re a drama magnet, Caden.”
She releases the shirt and rushes out of the bathroom, closing the door behind her. I take my shirt off and take a second to check my body for injuries. There’s a fist-sized bruise on my lower back, but other than that I’m fine. I probably should tell someone about the bruise, but that could mean Juliet sending me home and I can’t risk that.
Carefully, I put on the new shirt, which is a navy dress shirt with black buttons. It feels soft and silky against my skin. I splash hot water onto my face and rub until my cheeks turn red.
My face still looks alien, too perfect to be me. Even though I’m tired and stressed, my skin looks tan and clean. The skin under my eyes matches the rest perfectly: there’s no darkness. Even with the injuries, including a small cut that slashes through my right eyebrow, I look good.
I splash one last handful of water onto my stupid perfect face and walk out of the bathroom.
In the dining room, Juliet and her mom are seated, chatting. I walk in and the conversation nose-dives. Juliet dips her head slightly and smiles, but one hand reaches out and fiddles with her fork. Her mother raises one hand and places her thumb under her chin, inspecting me like I’m a piece of art. Which I guess I am. All I’m missing is the doctor’s signature on my ass.
Richard enters with a tray containing a golden roasted chicken, crispy potatoes, and carrots dripping with oil. The smell of it makes my mouth water.
“Caden,” he says as he places the tray in the middle of the table. After pulling off his oven mitts, he walks over to me. “Look at you!” He squeezes my shoulder. “I hardly recognize you! You’ve lost a lot of weight. Now sit, and let’s see if we can put some of those pounds back on.”
“Sounds like a plan!”
I take a seat opposite Juliet.
“So what happened to you?” he asks as he slices into the chicken. “Why were you bleeding onto my carpet?”
“Just some thugs.”
“Just some thugs?”
“Yep.”
Juliet leans forward. “It wasn’t a big deal, Dad.”
“It is a big deal! You think I’m going to let you go out at night alone now that I know … thugs are roaming the streets!”
Juliet rolls her eyes. “Dad, we have company. Can you not be overprotective for two seconds? And look at this.” She shows him her fist. The knuckles have been scraped raw. “I punched one of the guys. I’m not defenseless.”
He puts his knife and fork down and turns to me. “No offense, Caden, but this is a conversation I need to have with my daughter right now. Juliet, if the streets aren’t safe, you aren’t going to go out alone. It’s that simple.”
“Richard,” says Daphne. “It’s fine. Trust me.”
Juliet thumps her fist down on the table. “Why am I being punished when they attacked me?”
“You aren’t being punished, you’re being kept safe.”
Juliet scrunches up the napkin she was holding. “Dad, drop it. Let’s have dinner.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
Daphne turns to me. “See,” she says. She’s smiling fondly. “Even though you’ve been gone for so long, some things haven’t changed. These two are still fighting the same old fights. It’s kind of comforting, isn’t it?”
I chuckle. “Yeah, it is.”
Juliet lets out a little burst of laughter, and the mood of the entire room lifts. Her dad passes me a helping of chicken, two potatoes, and half a carrot. I pour a splattering of gravy out of a jug with a cow on it over everything and serve myself a huge scoop of cauliflower casserole. Then, to finish everything off, I grab a roll and bite into it. It’s soft and fluffy and the best thing I’ve ever tasted. Obviously, bread wasn’t allowed at the LIC. We practically lived on steamed chicken breasts and green veggies.
Whoa, Caden, watch those carbs.
Do you expect me to not eat? That’ll look weird.
Fine. Just be careful with your portions.
Juliet’s plate matches mine, and she’s eating with such ferocity I feel it’s okay to ignore Kaylee and do the same. I cut off a big slice of chicken and stuff it into my mouth. It’s so freaking delicious I’d smile if my mouth weren’t so full.
“My God, look at the two of them,” says her dad. “It’s like they’re never fed. I promise we do feed her, Caden.”