Page 61 of Finding Us
“A guy came into Bridge wielding a knife.”
“A knife?” she asks as her pretty eyes widen.
“He was trying to find the person who’d stolen his shoes.”
“Oh my God. Did anyone get hurt?”
“No, I helped de-escalate the situation before it got out of hand.”
“How?”
“I gave him fifty bucks to buy some new shoes, and a bag full of food before sending him on his way.”
“You let him go?”
“Yes.”
“But he had a knife. Someone could have got seriously hurt.”
“He just wanted his shoes back.”
“That’s still a little extreme don’t you think. He sounds dangerous.”
“I know what it’s like when you’re living on the streets. Sometimes the clothes on your back are all you have.”
“I guess you’d see a lot of things being in that environment.”
“I’ve also lived it.”
“You’ve been homeless?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“When I was thirteen.”
“You lived on the street when you were thirteen?”
“For a year.”
“A year?” she squeaks.
“It was safer than being at home.”
“Because of your dad?”
“Yes.”
“What about your mum?”
“She’d left by then.”
“She left you behind?”
Fuck, those words cut me to the core, and not for the reason you may think. “That’s a story for another day.” Because the truth behind her departure is something I’ve never spoken about.
“I’m so sorry.”
