Can I stay with you? I have nowhere else to go.
His response came almost immediately.
The key is under the doormat. You can always go back home.
I bought a one-way bus ticket with Marcy’s money, destroyed the phone’s SIM card, and threw it in the trash.
Fourteen hours later, I arrived at Aunt May’s small coastal town at dawn. She was waiting for me by an old blue pickup truck, her silver hair pulled back in a braid.
When he saw me get off the bus without luggage, he didn’t ask me any questions. He simply put his arms around me.
“I’ll take you home.”
I slept for almost two days.
“My friend Martha owns the restaurant on Main Street,” Aunt May explained. “She needs help and won’t ask questions. Until you decide what to do, use your mother’s maiden name.”
