Homeless

Chapter 7

"I would love to," I said, looking into Claire's hopeful eyes. "But I can't."

She frowned, glancing at her brother whose eyes never left me. "You can't? Why?"

"Technically... you can't hire me." I bit the inside of my cheek. Opening up was more difficult than I thought. "I don't have an ID."

"Yes, I know it was stolen. But you can always make a new one," she said.

"You don't understand, Claire." I shook my head, speaking slowly. "I don't have an ID. I never had one to begin with."

Nathaniel was the first to recover. He leaned forward, his elbows on the table. "Birth certificate?"

"None," I replied. He rubbed the dark stubble on his jaw.

Shocked and confused, Claire looked at her coffee, her forehead creased in thought, no doubt trying to make sense of my situation.

I dropped the first bomb. Let's see how good they'd handle it. Speaking about my past, no matter how insignificant the information was, chilled my body to the bone.

I wrapped my hands tighter around my drink to keep them from trembling. Even its warmth failed to chase away the cold bite of fear.

It was okay. This information could not possibly give them any hint about where we'd come from, not that they could ever imagine such a place existed. The thought settled my heart some.

"We can solve that," Nathaniel said after a few minutes. "We can make you an ID."

"Is it doable without even a birth certificate?" Claire wondered. But that wasn't my first concern.

Nathaniel nodded. "There should be a way."

"Even if there was," I said. "If the police have to get involved at some point, then you can forget about it. I'd rather drag Mark screaming than have any police record of me in this state."

Nathaniel's eyes speared through me. Claire raised her brows.

"Why don't you want the police involved?" Nathaniel asked, his voice too calm considering the situation. I could be a fugitive for all he knew, yet he didn't look alarmed in the slightest.

Thinking about how to answer the question without giving too much away, I sipped on my coffee. I didn't want to lie. They deserved honesty after all they'd done for us. But I couldn't tell the entire truth either. It would get me and them in dangerous trouble.

I took a deep breath. "I'm running away from someone. They have connections in the police."

"That's why..." Claire breathed out, leaning back in her seat. She shook her head. "But how come you don't have a birth certificate?"

"Because my mother didn't register me," I replied truthfully, "or Mark, for that matter."

Claire sighed. "Do I even want to ask why?"

I gave her a tight smile and shook my head. She nodded. "Very well. But I'm here to listen whenever you want to talk about it."

That was very unlikely, but, "Thank you. I'll keep it in mind."

"Good." She smiled. "Anyway, Nathaniel can figure something out. Meanwhile, you can start working at the café."

I blinked. Hope expanding in my chest. "Are you sure?"

Her smile widened. "Positive. If something happens, I'll figure it out, don't worry. I know you'll go crazy if you stay locked up in here, and you don't really like having things handed to you, so..."