I glanced down at the floor and back up into her blues eyes. “I’m fifteen, but I’ve lived three of your lifetimes.”
She stared at me. “Somehow, I believe you. But what about your parents? You’re a minor. I can’t just—”
“My mother’s locked up in an asylum—she’s fucking nuts—and my father is dead.”
She appeared stunned. “And you’re sure you don’t want to tell the police what happened?”
“No, I can’t deal with that right now. Please. I’ll do anything.”
“Stop saying you’ll do anything. Some of these predators out here will only take you up on that. I speak from vast experience.”
I walked over to the door and peeked out. The nurses’ station was on the other end of the hallway. Good! “The coast is clear. Let’s go.”
Hannah seemed frozen in place at first but then jumped into action. “This is not a good idea, but I guess that I’m in. Goodness knows that I’ve done worse.” She paused. “I hope you’re being honest about your parents. I don’t want to end up facing a kidnapping charge. That would be a new one for me.”
“You’re not kidnapping me. And they’re not going to come to New York looking for me anyway. They don’t even know my name.”
“Neither do I.”
I hated telling people my name because of the meaning behind it. I blurted it out. “Caprice. My name is Caprice.”
Hannah grinned. “What a pretty name. Much better than Rose.”
I didn’t respond. My name was all part of the generational curse.
We snuck out the room, out the exit door at the stairwell, and then caught a cab to the bus station. New York City, I was on my way.