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That news makes this whole thing even sadder.
“It’s their safe place,” he continues. “We don’t invade it.”
I nod, swallowing down a lump threatening to form as I look up at him. I knew Emmett was a nice guy. Although my memories of him are few and more than a little faded by time, I can’t recall a single moment when he was rude to me or told me to go find something else to do. Those memories are the same for Vaughn. If he was annoyed with me, it never registered.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell him, turning to go to the front door.
I’m wondering how I’ll get the door open as I close the distance, but it pulls inward just as I step onto the concrete sidewalk running in front of it.
“Thank you,” I tell the woman standing behind the door as I enter.
“Is there more?” she asks.
“Yes, but I’ll grab them. If you want to take this one that would be great.”
She holds her hands out, allowing me to shift the dish.
“I’ll be right back. I’m Devyn by the way.”
She nods, not giving me her name in return. I can only imagine that she’s either extremely timid or she’s nervous about disclosing who she is. I realize as I walk back to the SUV for the next dish that I can’t really be upset with someone protecting themselves after going through hell.
“They’re healing,” Emmett says, reading the sadness in my eyes as I approach him. “That looks different for each one.”
I nod, fighting tears, because, honestly, I can’t imagine facing the world without my chin held high no matter what’s in front of me. I consider the privilege I’ve been given in my life. It may not be perfect, but I never walked into my home afraid I’d be hit or abused.
“I’ll wait out here for you,” he says as he hands me the final dish.
I nod, knowing I can’t speak right now because of the emotions threatening to bubble up.
The door opens once again, this time by a different woman. She has a smile on her face as I step inside.
“Is it lunch or dessert?” she asks, her eyes locked on the dish. “I would kill for anything with spiced apples in it right now.”
“It’s lasagna,” I tell her, chuckling when her face falls. “But Em and Misty brought peach cobbler.”
Her eyes widen. “Em’s cobbler?”
I nod, feeling a little better about this place with her excitement.
“Is it good?”
“The best,” she declares. “Follow me to the kitchen. The sooner we eat lunch, the sooner we can get to dessert.”
“You can have dessert first if you want,” Em tells her as we enter the large, commercial-grade kitchen.
The woman eyes the dishes set off to the right as if she’s going to accept Em’s offer, but she shakes her head with a chuckle.
“I can wait. It’ll only make it that much better.” She turns back in my direction. “I’m Sharron.”
“Devyn,” I tell her, letting her take the dish from my hands to add it to the line of dishes on the counter.
For the next fifteen minutes, Sharron and I help set the table and make sure there’s enough ice for drinks. We’re told that it’s going to be a buffet-style lunch. Misty, the wife of Cerberus vice president Shadow, explains in a whisper that some will eat later while others may make a plate and go back to their rooms.
Giggles fill the air, making me realize this isn’t a place for only women but their children as well. My heart seizes a little tighter as a couple kids run through the kitchen. I smile as I watch them, grateful that I’m not seeing faces with bruises, which is what I expected when Emmett told me what this place was.
One little girl runs past with a squeal of happiness as she’s being chased by a little boy. They dart through and then move to the dining room. I grin as I watch them play, but then the little girl cuts a corner around one of the chairs too close and snags the strap of her pretty dress.
She stops running, the little boy ramming into her on accident. Tears immediately fill her eyes as they dart around. It’s clear to see she’s scared, as if she thinks she’s going to be in trouble.
“It’s fine,” Em says, stepping forward just as the first bubble of a sob escapes the little girl’s throat.
“It’s ruined,” she says through her tears. “I shouldn’t have been running.”
“You were playing, Millie,” Em says as she crouches low to get on the little girl’s level. “You’re allowed to play.”
She nods, her eyes wet with tears.
“It’s not ruined,” I say, stepping closer to her and reaching into my purse. “If it’s okay with you, I can fix it right now.”
Her eyes widen before darting to Em to make sure it’s okay. I understand her need to verify she’s safe, but it also makes me sadder that she’s learned in her very short life that she can’t trust everyone.
