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“Then you should put a Band-Aid on it,” Morgan said.

“That’s a great idea,” Carla said through her tears.

The following morning, after Carla had placed all their suitcases in her trunk, she woke the girls and announced they were going on an adventure.

“What about school?”Morgan asked.

“It’s a holiday,” Carla said.“It’s ‘Mommy takes her kids on their first airplane’ day.”

“Yay,” Charlie said.

Charlie and Morgan leaped out of bed.Carla handed Morgan clothes to put on, then helped Charlie get dressed.After breakfast, she drove them to the airport, leaving her car in a corner of the long-term parking lot.She hoped it would be a while before anyone found it.The girls had never been on a plane, so the thrill of flying kept them from asking why their father wasn’t with them.

After the six-hour flight and a lot of adrenaline, both girls were exhausted.Carla gave the taxi driver the address of an apartment building in the San Fernando Valley that she had researched to ensure it was in a safe neighborhood.

Carla felt the tension in her spine lessen when they pulled up to a newer building on a quiet block.The building was a charming brick structure, four stories tall, with a row of purple and pink Lantana flowers surrounding a large Crepe Myrtle tree in the middle of a verdant green lawn.

The best part was the tenants were mainly elderly and were excited to see young kids moving in.The first person they met was Julia, a widow who lived in the apartment next door.Julia had an abundance of white hair that she wore in a bun, and when she let it down, it cascaded down to her waist.She seemed ten years younger than her age of eighty-one.

The first time Julia met Carla and the girls, her eyes sparkled with a warmth that almost made Carla fall apart.Carla felt that Julia was sent from above to be the mother she never had.And when she offered to babysit the girls, Carla was sure of it.Julia missed her grandchildren, who had recently moved with their parents to a foreign country while their father had been deployed.

One of the first things Carla did after she got settled in was change her last name from Brenner to her mother’s maiden name, Weiss.Then she discovered someone who forged birth certificates and she changed the girls’ last names, too.Carla was intent on making sure that no one would ever find them.

CHAPTER 29

Morgan

Morgan hated taking anything to sleep, but after hearing her father’s voice, she knew she would be up all night.

When she woke up the next morning, she gasped, realizing she had slept for ten hours.She got out of bed slowly, her head fuzzy and her eyes taking a moment to focus.The only thing that would completely wake her up was strong coffee.

She left the house without telling Charlie or Abby where she was going.She wanted to surprise them with their favorite vanilla lattes.

Morgan didn’t turn on the radio.She soaked in the silence until thoughts of her father barged in like an uninvited houseguest.Brian seems nice, but for all I know, he could be a serial killer.Mom could have run away so she wouldn’t have to turn him in.

As Morgan’s tears drenched the steering wheel, she fell deeper down a well of despair.She pulled over to the side of the road.“Did he hit you?Did he hit us?What didn’t you tell us and why?”she said, towards the car’s roof.

When Morgan had composed herself, she noticed she was in a dingy part of town, in front of a run-down building with a sign that said, ‘Way Pen.’She knew it meant ‘Always Open,’ even though the neon letters for A, L, S, and O were out.Morgan could spot a dive bar from a mile away.The building’s exterior was black or a very dirty shade of brown.Whatever the color, it seemed bleak, which matched Morgan’s mood.

As she pulled into the parking lot, she considered what going into a dive bar would mean: that she had sunk to a low she’d never thought she would return to.

A trail of tents lined the sidewalk, and men with scraggly facial hair huddled together.Morgan should have been nervous, but instead, a wave of nostalgia washed over her.A familiar calmness overtook her, and she heard a warm voice beckoning her inside.

If finding out my mother lied to me about my father isn’t a good reason to have a drink, I don’t know what is.She looked up at the sky.“I promise to stop at one,” she said, but another voice told her she might be lying.

Morgan heard a creak when she shoved open the door to the bar.Before she walked in, she rubbed her palms together to get rid of the lead paint that came off in her hand.When she was a full-blown alcoholic, Morgan would find little neighborhood dives like this one that would open early in the morning.She hadn’t wanted to run into anyone she knew, and if she did, she’d pretend she didn’t see them, and they’d do the same in return.

I shouldn’t be here, she thought, yet still moved forward.It was so dark inside that she couldn’t make out if people were there.She wanted to wait for her eyes to adjust, but needing a drink outweighed her temporary blindness.As she moved across the sticky tile floor, she put her hands out like Frankenstein, hoping she wouldn’t crash into anything.Morgan rested her elbows on the wood and waited for the bartender to notice her.She didn’t call him over even though she was desperate for alcohol.

When the bartender finally headed toward her, she decided he had been a pirate in a former life or possibly still was one.He had a bandana wrapped over his shoulder-length shaggy hair and wore one silver medium-sized hoop earring in his left ear.She expected him to greet her with, ‘Argh matey,’ except he wasn’t that friendly.

“What do you want?”the bartender asked, wiping a small wet spot on the wood in front of her.

“Bourbon on the rocks,” Morgan said.

As the bartender reached for a bottle on the shelf behind him, a man, probably in his late fifties, wobbled up to her.He had a whiskey in one hand and a beer in the other.

“Hey, lady, are you for sale?”he asked.