“A closet romantic. Who’d have thought?”
Julia laughed. “Hardly. So, how did the press conference go?”
“Long. Boring. Full of stupid questions. The national networks are just as bad. And I learned this about reporters: if a question is too ridiculous to be answered, they’ll ask it again. My personal favorite was from the National Enquirer. They were hoping she had wings instead of arms. Oh, and The Star wondered if she’d lived with the wolves.”
Thankfully it was a tabloid. No one would lend the story any credence. “What about an identification?”
“Not yet. Between the X rays, the birthmarks, the scarring, and her age range, we’re narrowing the possibilities down, though. Oh, and your approval came through from DSHS. You’re officially her temporary foster parent.”
The girl crept out from her hiding place. Nostrils flaring, she paused, smelled the air, then streaked across the room, running low to the ground. Julia had never seen a kid move so fast. She disappeared into the bathroom.
Ellie whistled. “So that’s what Daisy meant when she said the girl ran like the wind.”
Julia slowly walked toward the bathroom.
Ellie followed her.
The girl was sitting on the toilet, with her pull-up big-kid diaper around her ankles.
“Holy cow,” Ellie whispered. “Did you teach her that?”
Julia couldn’t believe it herself. “She walked in on me today, when I was going to the bathroom. The sound of the flushing scared her to death. I would have sworn she’d never seen a toilet before.”
“You think she taught herself? By seeing you once?”
Julia didn’t answer. Any noise could ruin this moment. She inched into the room and gathered up some toilet paper. She showed the girl what to do with it, then handed it to her. The child frowned at the wadded up paper for a long time. Finally, she took it and used it. When she was finished, she slithered off the toilet, pulled up her diaper/underwear, and hit the white tape-covered lever. At the flushing noise, she screamed and ran, ducking between Julia’s and Ellie’s legs.
“Wow,” Ellie said.
They both stared at the girl hiding in the forest of potted plants.
In the quiet room, the girl’s breathing was loud and fast.
“This whole thing just gets stranger and stranger,” Ellie said.
Julia couldn’t disagree with that.
“Well,” Ellie said at last, “I need to get back to the office. I don’t know how long I’ll be.” She pulled a piece of paper out of her back pocket and handed it to Julia. “These are Peanut’s and Cal’s home numbers. If you need to go to the library again, they’ll stay at the house with the kid.”
“Thanks.”
Julia walked Ellie to the door, let her out, then shut it again. She didn’t bother locking it. So far, the girl seemed terrified of the doorknob.
She went to the table, where she made a few more notes, then set her paper and pen away.
“It’s dinnertime.”
The girl remained hidden in the plants, watching her.
“Food.” She tapped the tray Ellie had left.
This time the girl moved. She crept out from the cover of green leaves and came to the table, where she started to attack the food in her usual way.
Julia grabbed her wrist. “No.”
Their gazes clashed.
“You’re too smart for this, aren’t you?” Julia got up, still holding the bird-thin wrist, and moved around to stand beside the girl. “Sit.” She pulled out a chair and patted the seat. “Sit.”