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“Yes,” she says, cocking a shoulder.
The pieces click together. If she lived here, she must be a part of my husband’s family on his mother’s side.
“You shouldn’t climb through the window,” I chide gently. “You can make popcorn and watch television any time you like as long as you use the door.”
“The door was locked,” she exclaims.
“Then you should’ve waited for me. The same goes for taking things from the cupboard. Or the windowsill. You shouldn’t simply help yourself. You should ask. It’s not right to take something that doesn’t belong to you. People may get angry.”
“I’m sorry I took the cereal.” She pouts. “And the cake. I was hungry.”
I squeeze her hand. “I know, sweetheart. Next time, please ask. I’m not trying to be mean. I just want to make sure you don’t pick up habits that can get you into trouble.”
“Are you going to take me back to the camp because I took your cereal?” she asks in a small voice.
“Oh, Sophie.” I hug her to me. “Right now, we’re just going to wash up and have a slice of cake. Don’t worry. We’ll sort it out. Just promise me you won’t climb through anyone’s window again.”
She pulls away. “If I promise, can I have two pieces of cake?”
“I already told you that you may have cake.” I smile. “We’ll see about the two slices.”
“Okay,” she agrees meekly.
I bring her to the kitchen and make her sit in a chair by the sink. I still have some of the products the pharmacist gave me left. After fetching the oil and shampoo from the bathroom, I give Sophie a bowl with soapy water in which she washes Beatrice’s hair while I comb the oil through her short hair before washing and rinsing it with her head tilted back in the sink. Once her hair is clean, I trim it as best as I can with the kitchen scissors.
“Do you cut your own hair?” I ask as I dry it with the hairdryer by the kitchen table.
“My brothers do. Beatrice won’t let them cut her hair.” She looks up at me, swinging her legs. “Can I let mine grow long like yours?”
“Sure, but you have to wash it often so that it’s pretty and shiny.” I give her a dry washcloth to serve as a towel for the doll. “Shall we go find Beatrice something to wear?”
She follows me upstairs obediently. When I suggest a shower, her fear of water and submersing her head in it becomes apparent again. With a little coaxing, I manage to scrub her clean in a few centimeters of water in the bath before giving her one of my T-shirts, a pair of shorts, and socks to wear. We dress Beatrice in a red silk scarf, which Sophie says the doll loves.
While we make the frosting in the kitchen, I contemplate how to bring up the matter that’s on my mind without scaring her away. It’s not until Sophie is seated at the table with a big slice of cake in front of her and a small slice served on a saucer for Beatrice that I say, “Why don’t you stay here for a while, Sophie? Beatrice must be cold down there by the river.”
Sophie shrugs and shoves a spoon full of cake into her mouth. “It’s warm in the cave when we make a fire.”
“Will your brothers worry if you don’t go back?”
“They don’t really miss me.” She adds with an air of pride, “I sometimes stay away for a few days. I know how to take care of myself.”
Smoothing a hand over her head, I ask, “How old are you?”
She shrugs again. “I don’t know.”
The tightness in my chest increases. I can’t let her return to that cave, but I don’t want Angelo to drag her back to her grandfather either. Will he let her stay at his house? Will he let Heidi take care of her?
When both plates are empty, Sophie helps me to tidy the kitchen, seeming to enjoy the task. I lured her inside with the cake, but she needs a healthier dinner than the sugar I just fed her. After fixing her an egg-mayo sandwich that she devours with a glass of milk as if she hasn’t eaten in years, I heat up a carton of soup.
“Are you still hungry? I’m going to have soup. Will Beatrice like a bowl?”
“With bread.” She adds quickly, “And butter,” before climbing on a chair by the table.
After serving three bowls of soup, I sit down opposite her.
She spreads a thick layer of butter on a slice of bread and dunks it in her soup.
I cup my bowl and draw it closer, considering my next words carefully. “I don’t want you to go back to the camp if that’s not what you want, but I can’t let you roam around alone and live in the cave. It’s not safe.”
