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Gabriel's diction was one of the few things for which he could thank Seanna. She might not even have graduated high school herself, but she'd had no patience with baby talk. He'd also discovered an advantage to speaking above his age: it elevated him above his station as well. Like a chimney sweep with an Oxford accent. He might have a drug-addled part-time prostitute, full-time con artist for a mother, but he didn't sound as if he did.
"If this is your building, I apologize," he said. "I'll leave now."
"And where will you go?" she said as he headed for the door. "Where will you stay?"
He hoped he didn't look too surprised at that. He had never been recognized as a street kid before. He had a rough look to him, but he overcame it with careful attention to dress and posture and grooming.
"I will go home, of course. Now, if you'll excuse me..."
Her lips curved, a smile somewhere between pity and mockery, and he wasn't sure which jabbed harder. He fixed her with a steady gaze. That usually did it--people found his eyes unsettling. Too pale a blue. Spooky, kids said, when they thought he couldn't hear them.
The woman only looked him straight in the eye and said, "Oh my, you are lost, aren't you?"
"You are mistaken," he said and brushed past her.
As he headed through the building, she followed, saying, "I'm sorry if I offended you, child."
Child? That was even worse than boy.
"I only want to help you find your way," she continued.
"I know my way, thank you."
"Do you?"
Yes, he did. Seanna's disappearance required a slight detour in his life's plan, but it changed nothing. He would adapt. He would persevere. High school. College. Law school. Success.
Money. Security. Peace.
"I know my way," he said again.
"Is it the right way?"
"Yes."
"Are you certain?"
He turned and fixed her with that look again. "Quite certain, and while I appreciate your concern--"
She touched his arm, and he jumped. An instinctive reaction to being touched, one that he'd learned to overcome. Failing now proved his agitation.
Go. Just go now.
"Let me show you the way out," she said.
"It's right there." He nodded toward a broken window.
"I can show you a better way. Put you on the right track."
He let out a snort that made her give a start. "Oh, now I see."
"See what?"
"Child services? Social worker? Or is it religion? I do hope it's not religion. That's passe. Please tell me it's a cult. I have always wanted to be recruited by a cult."
She stared as if he'd begun speaking in tongues. Again, nothing new. Sarcasm, he'd learned, was not something people expected from him. He just didn't seem the type.
"What are you?" she asked.
