Cut Me Free by J. R. Johansson

turns to me.
    â€œSure, maybe we can find a good time for that later.” I slide along behind Sanda, trying to casually nudge her toward the stairs with one of the shopping bags. “Good night.”
    â€œOkay, take care.” Her expression is appraising, but her lips are drawn into a tight line and she hurries Rachel inside and closes the door harder than necessary.
    I sigh as I walk up the stairs with Sanda close behind me.
    â€œI’m not sure she likes you very much,” Sanda says, looking puzzled. “That’s too bad.”
    I nod. “Yep, it sure is.”
    My phone rings as I open the door and let Sanda inside. The ringtone is terrible, jangling in an absurdly loud and annoying way. The screen says “Cam” and I flip it open. I try to remember how I’ve seen people talk on the phone on TV shows. It’s not like I grew up doing it.
    â€œHello?”
    â€œCharlotte?”
    It takes me a few seconds before I remember that’s me. “Oh, right. This is her.”
    Cam snorts. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”
    â€œYeah, I’m working on it.” I run my hand across the railing and hesitate on the landing outside my apartment door. “Everything okay?”
    â€œYep, Lily just worked out the schedule. Sorry for the late notice, but can you come to training tomorrow night at five?”
    I hear Lily mumble something in the background and she doesn’t exactly sound pleased. I’m not sure what I’ll do with Sanda, but I have a day to figure it out. Besides, now is not the time to get on Cam’s bad side. With Sanda, I’ll need his help longer than I expected. “Yeah, I think so.”
    â€œGreat, thanks again.”
    I groan. “Don’t thank me yet.”
    â€œYeah, yeah, you’ll do great. I’ll see if I can stop by the restaurant.”
    â€œI didn’t think you worked there.”
    â€œI don’t, but I help the family out in the storage room whenever my grandpa isn’t well enough to come in.”
    â€œOh, I see.” I’m not sure how to respond, and I’m still confused about why he would be coming in tomorrow.
    â€œSee you then.” And he hangs up without another word.
    *   *   *
    â€œI’m just supposed to ask her to hang out with me?” Sanda takes two steps down from our door before turning to face me again. After two showers, a night of sleep, and some clean clothes, she’s like a new kid—on the outside at least. “And then wait for her to answer?”
    â€œI think so.” I haven’t had much experience with this either, but my reply actually appears to make Sanda more nervous. Reaching out, I squeeze her shoulder. “It will be fine. I promise.”
    â€œBut what if she says no? Or what if…” Her dark eyes study the pink straps on her new shoes, and I see a familiar pain. A shame that burns your heart until you know everyone can see it. Her right hand crosses over and she rubs a thin scar peeking out below the edge of her sleeve. “Are you sure she’s safe? And what if Rachel sees, or Janice?”
    I kneel down and wait until her eyes meet mine. “Rachel is healthy and happy. Janice is a good person. And if they ask, you should tell them that someone used to hurt you and that’s why you’re with me now. So I can keep you safe. You don’t have to, and you shouldn’t really, tell them anything more than that.”
    Her expression relaxes a little. She squeezes my hand and her eyes fill with warmth that steals the breath from my chest. Sam used to look at me the same way. It is devotion I didn’t deserve—don’t deserve—but I’m working toward it. Her voice is only a whisper when she speaks again.
    â€œThank you for keeping me safe.”
    I nod, unable to come up with any response. Sanda throws her arms around me in a tight hug and I feel better