And the way she ate . . .
The girl put most of the doughnut into her mouth and started to chew loudly.
Julia could tell when the taste kicked in. The girl’s eyes widened.
“Can’t beat a good doughnut. You should taste my mom’s brownies. They were delicious.” Julia stumbled slightly over the past tense of the word. The odd thing was, she would have sworn the child noticed, though she couldn’t have said why she thoug
ht so. “You’d better have some protein with that, kiddo. Too much sugar isn’t good.” She got a hot dog and doctored it up with ketchup and mustard then set it down on the floor about two feet closer to the table than before.
The girl looked at the empty plate where the doughnut had been. It was obvious that she recognized the difference. She seemed to be gauging the additional distance, calculating additional risk.
“You can trust me,” Julia said softly.
No response.
“I won’t hurt you.”
The girl’s chin slowly came up. Those blue-green eyes fixed on her.
“You understand me, don’t you? Maybe not everything, but enough. Is English your first language? Are you from around here?”
The girl glanced down at the hot dog.
“Neah Bay. Joyce. Sequim. Forks. Sappho. Pysht. La Push. Mystic.” Julia watched closely for a reaction. None of the local towns prompted a response. “A lot of families go hiking in the forest, especially along Fall River.”
Had the girl blinked at that? She said it again: “Fall River.”
Nothing.
“Forest. Trees. Deep woods.”
The girl looked up sharply.
Julia got up from her seat and very slowly moved toward the girl. When she was almost close enough to make contact, she squatted down so that she and the child were at eye level. Reaching behind her, she felt around for the hot dog plate. Finding it, she grasped the plastic rim and held the plate of food forward. “Were you lost in the woods, honey? That can be so scary. All that darkness, all those sounds. Did you get separated from your mommy and daddy? If you did, I can help you. I can help you go back where you belong.”
The girl’s nostrils flared, but whether from the words or the scent of the hot dog, Julia couldn’t be sure. For a moment there—maybe at the word back or help—there had been a flash of fear in those young eyes.
“You’re afraid to trust me. Maybe your mom and dad told you not to talk to strangers. That’s normally good advice, but you’re in trouble, honey. I can only help you if you’ll talk to me. How else can I get you home? You can trust me. I won’t hurt you,” she said again. “No hurt.”
At that the girl inched slowly forward. Not once did her gaze waver or lower. She stared directly at Julia as she scuttled forward in her awkward crouch.
“No hurt,” Julia said again as the girl neared.
The child was breathing fast; her nostrils were blowing hard. Sweat sheened her forehead. She smelled vaguely of urine because of the diapers they’d been unable to change. The hospital gown hung slack on her tiny body. Her toenails and fingernails were long and still slightly grimy. She reached for the hot dog, grabbed it in her hands.
She brought it to her nose, sniffed it, frowning.
“It’s a hot dog,” Julia said. “Your parents probably brought them on the camping trip. Where did you go on that trip, do you remember? Do you know the name of your town? Mystic? Forks? Joyce? Pysht? Where did your daddy say you were going? Maybe I could go get him.”
The girl attacked her. It happened so fast that Julia couldn’t respond. One second she was sitting there, talking softly, the next, she felt herself falling backward, hitting her head on the floor. The girl jumped on Julia’s chest and clawed at her face, screaming unintelligible words.
Max was there in an instant, pulling the girl off Julia.
Dazed, Julia tried to sit up. She couldn’t focus. When the world finally righted itself she saw Max sedating the child.
“No!” Julia cried, trying to get to her feet. Her vision blurred. She stumbled.
Max was back at her side, steadying her. “I’ve got you.”