Harvest Moon by Helena Shaw Page B

person who had given her up
was stalling for time, or that maybe they were just forgetful. Either way,
she’d known she had to act fast.
    The house was three stories tall. The attic had been
turned into an apartment by the previous owners, and when she’d first arrived
at the home, she’d been offered a spot up there with some of the other older
kids who were squatting there, but something told her not to take it. The
outside stairs that led to the apartment had long fallen apart and were a
deathtrap for anyone who tried to navigate them. That alone told her not to
stay up there.
    Instead, Jenny had selected to stay on the second
floor in a room with a broken window and a girl who never spoke. Whether the
poor girl was mute or just painfully shy, she’d never found out. Everyone just
called her Hush, but she didn’t seem to mind the nickname. It suited her.
    There was no time for her to think herself lucky for
staying in that second floor room. Footsteps were getting closer and closer,
and she had to act quickly.
    Jenny had moved purely on instinct then. There was no
time to pack up anything, no time to say goodbye. The drafty window that never
closed properly was now her salvation. Easily, she pushed it open and stared
down at the ground that might have been ten feet below her.
    She was about to jump, leaving all her things behind,
when her roommate’s fingers caught the old hoodie she wore to sleep in. Jenny
turned then, and in the poor girl’s eyes she saw her pleading with her not to
go, but she had no choice.
    “I’m sorry,” she whispered so quietly that even she
wasn’t sure she heard herself, and then she jumped.
    The ground was hard and wet from the early morning
frost on the grass, but she didn’t mind. Even then, when she was first on her
own, she always remembered what her father had taught her about not being seen
or heard. The cops were still inside, and she tiptoed past their parked cruiser
before she broke out in a sprint, leaving Columbus behind forever.
    That had been almost two years ago, but she’d been so
careful since then. No credit cards, always dyeing her hair, never using her
real name, but now there was someone in her house, and she had to move quickly
before whoever it was discovered her in her bed.
    It was then that Dawn started to shake the grogginess
out of her mind and she started to remember the previous night’s events. She
was so close to climbing out another window to escape, but as her consciousness
came around, she almost laughed at her own foolishness.
    It’s Nash , she thought to herself. You let
him sleep on the couch.
    Thinking back to it, Dawn was starting to realize what
a bad idea that had been. The man was FBI, as unconventional as he seemed, and
she’d not only invited him into her home, but let him stay the night. He could
have done any manner of snooping around while she slept, and now she had that
to worry about on top of everything else.
    Before she climbed out of bed, Dawn’s mind raced over
the things in her home that might hint at her being anyone but Dawn Garrett,
but she couldn’t find anything. After she’d left Columbus, she had truly left
Jennifer Waters behind. Some cash she’d earned panhandling in Dayton had bought
her a fake ID with the name Cynthia Cox, and from there, she began to make her
way southeast.
    Jennifer was as good as dead, and the only proof of
her existence was in New York City, and maybe some scraps in Ohio. Nash would
find nothing in her house. She had made sure of that.
    Still, she couldn’t help but be nervous. He might not
be like most cops, but he was still a cop.
    Dawn knew she couldn’t hide in her bedroom all day,
and she forced herself out of bed. She debated putting on a pair of jeans and a
t-shirt to meet Agent Nash, but she decided to leave on the old flannel pajama
pants, and the faded shirt she wore would be fine. She didn’t want to look like
she was trying to dress up or do anything special, even if she