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I walked out into a large hallway, showered, dressed and having relieved a small portion of the burden of my grief, at least for the moment.
The sounds of dishes clattering drew me and I peeked into a large kitchen where the jeweler was seated in front of a plate of food, an open magazine on the table next to it.
"Good morning," he said, getting up. "You look refreshed. Did you sleep well?"
I nodded. "Yes, thank you." I eyed the food sitting on the table—a plate of bacon and eggs, and a dish of fruit.
The jeweler followed my eyes and waved me over to him. "Please, sit. Eat. We can discuss the arrangements I mentioned last night."
I nodded, biting my lip, and took a seat at the table as he dished up food and set it before me.
I took a few bites before looking up and gathering my resolve. I wanted to stay here. The man was nice, or so it seemed. But, I was pretty sure what his "arrangements" would include, and I didn't think it was possible for me—I couldn't fathom it. Not after what I'd been through. I would return to the street—I might die there—but death didn't scare me, not anymore.
I'll be waiting for you, by a spring. Come find me, I'll be there.
I cleared my throat. "I can't accept the arrangement you propose," I said, lowering my eyes.
He furrowed his brow, his coffee cup stopping midway to his mouth. He tilted his head. "I haven't proposed anything yet."
Heat moved up my neck and I looked down. "I understand what you want," I said softly.
The jeweler watched me for a minute and then lowered his coffee cup, causing it to clatter back down to the saucer. I looked up at him as he stared at me, looking . . . angry? Sad? I couldn't be sure. "That's not what I want."
I looked at him in confusion. "You said you had an arrangement we could discuss."
He took a deep breath and stared at me for a few moments. "First of all, I don't think we've met properly. My name is Felix Grant. Please call me Felix. Yes?"
I nodded, waiting for him to continue.
"Okay, good. Now what's your name?"
"Eden," I said softly.
"And your last name?"
I looked down and cleared my throat. "I don't know."
"You don't know your last name?" he asked, incredulously.
I shook my head. "No, I know I had one once, but after my family died, I went to live with someone else, and . . . I can't remember it."
He was silent for another few beats. "How is that possible? How did you go to school without a last name?"
"I never went to school," I said softly, more color moving up into my face.
"How old are you?"
"I'm eighteen," I said. Felix looked at me as if he didn't believe me.
More silence and then, "Eden, do I need to call the police? What happened to you?"
My eyes flew to his at the word police. "No! Please, no. I . . . no one is looking for me. I'm not a runaway or anything. I just . . . I don't have anyone anymore. They're all . . . gone now. Please no police." My voice broke on the last word and I looked at him pleadingly, ready to run if he went for a phone.
Felix looked at me thoughtfully for several beats before he finally said, "What can you do, Eden? Do you cook? Clean?"
I shook my head. "I wasn't allowed to do any of that. I can play the piano," I said hopefully. It was pretty much the only thing I could do.
Felix raised his eyebrows. "Is that so? Well, it just so happens I have a granddaughter who's been asking for piano lessons. Are you good enough to teach her?"
I nodded my head slowly. "Yes. Yes, I could teach the piano."
Felix nodded. "Okay, then. This is the arrangement I propose—you're hired. Room and board is included in your salary. And your job includes nothing more than teaching my granddaughter, Sophia, the piano. Is that clear, Eden?"
I nodded my head, feeling something that felt a little like hope. I was going to be safe, warm, fed. I might at least have that.
"Good. Then that's settled. I'm going to assume that because of where you were lined up last night you don't have anything other than what you came with?"
I shook my head, looking down at the clothes that hung off my body. "I'm sorry. Once I work for a little bit, I'll be able to afford some different clothes . . . ones that look nicer . . ." I trailed off, embarrassed, but Felix waved his hand in the air.
"I'll front you some money for some new clothes. Marissa will go out today and pick you up some things. You met Marissa last night."
I nodded, and then studied Felix for a minute. He was older, probably in his sixties, I'd guess, but he was still a good-looking man with bright blue eyes, and a full head of salt and pepper hair. "Felix, I don't understand this. Why are you doing this for me?" I finally asked him.
He looked up at me, and then over at several pill bottles I hadn't noticed before, sitting on the side of the table. He took one bottle in his hand and unscrewed the cap, throwing a pill back before answering me. I couldn't help notice that his hands were shaking. Was he ill? "Because I made the wrong choice yesterday when I saw what happened in my store." He looked thoughtful for a minute. "When I saw you again on the street leaving the line for the shelter, I saw it as a second chance to do the right thing. I made the wrong choice once before, too, Eden, and I never got a second chance to correct that one. Does that make sense?"