But Jason wasn’t the only homeless child in Silver City. There was another joining the ranks even now. Charlotte wandered down Churchbell Street, a block away from St. Martha’s. She shivered as she saw a trio of homeless people hunkered down in an alley, covering themselves with newspapers against the encroaching night. She quickened her pace, knowing she shared the same fate as them for the evening, but unwilling to stay around them.

She zipped up her leather jacket all the way. The days were getting warmer, but the nights were still freezing. Her pace dropped off once she was down the street. After all, she had nowhere to go.

Charlotte eyed the streets and alleyways nervously, filled with strangeness, shadows, and danger. She really wished she was bigger than four and a half feet tall. She looked over the wall, scanning the enormous junkyard on the edge of town. The place had Mr. Jenkins and his dogs, but maybe she could find an old car she could bunk down in. One with locking doors.

It wasn’t like she had a lot of options, anyway. She was thirteen, with an oversized leather jacket and seventeen dollars in her pocket. Not a great start to her new life, but...at least she was free. Charlotte gulped, steadying herself. Whatever happened out here, it couldn’t be worse than her house. Not with her stepfather.

Maybe the church would let her sleep on a pew or something. Nah, they let homeless...other homeless people in at night. Defeated the entire purpose of getting away. But with no other real plan, her feet wandered in that direction anyway.

The church was large and foreboding, intimidatingly so. Charlotte reconsidered her vague idea more and more as she walked past it. Yeah no, she didn’t know what would happen if she went in, she wasn’t even that denomination. She didn’t know how that worked. She wasn’t very familiar with the area across the river, after all.

She rounded the corner, idly watching the children play in the church’s playground. It reminded her of when her mother used to push her on the park swings, before-

“Oof!” Charlotte grunted and fell over, the object she collided with falling beside her. No, the boy she hit.

“Oh no! I’m sorry! Here!” In a flash, the boy was on his feet and helping her up. “Are you okay? Please be okay!”

“I’m alright, really.” Charlotte said. She winced as he grabbed her hand. Skinned palms, with pebbles embedded in her hand. She was starting to bleed profusely. “Eugh.”

“Oh no! You’re bleeding! I’m so sorry!” the kid said, looking panicked. He didn’t look to be older than nine or ten.

“It’s alright, I’ll be fine.” Charlotte said, trying to dig the stones out of her palm. The boy stopped her.

“Don’t do that! It could get infected.” he said nervously. Charlotte rolled her eyes.

“I’ll be fine.”

“No, really! Infections can be really bad, I know! My grandpa’s picking me up around the corner. He’s a doctor, he can look at it!” the boy said enthusiastically.

“No, really I-” The kid looked at her with the biggest puppy-dog eyes Charlotte had ever seen. She sighed. She didn’t have any access to medical supplies anymore, it wouldn’t hurt for a doctor to take a look. “Alright. But just for a sec, got it?”

“Great!” he beamed at her. “C’mon, he’s this way!” Grabbing her wrist, he led her from the playground around the corner, towards the junkyard area. “My grandpa’s really smart, and really nice! He’ll fix you up better’n new, like when I fell off my bike! My name’s Derek by the way, what’s yours?”

“Er, Charlotte-”

“That’s cool! It’s better than my one friend, they named him Eustace. Eustace! It doesn’t even sound good! But yours kinda reminds me of the word chocolate. That’s my favorite candy, anything with chocolate!” Charlotte’s head was spinning from the mile a minute sentences Derek was stringing together. She pitied his teachers.

“Derek, my boy!” came from down the street. It was a very tall, thin man, well over six feet, maybe mid-fifties, wrinkled and balding, but still with long tufts of greying hair poking out from under his flatcap. He wore a long olive overcoat, and the brown loafers under his black slacks were impeccibly shined. “Good day, miss. Derek, what is the matter? Why are you tearing the poor girl’s arm off?”

“Grandpa! She’s hurt, and it’s kinda my fault. Can you help her?”

“Well, I don’t know. Couldn’t hurt to check, I suppose. If you would, miss? I’m a doctor by trade. My patients call me Dr. George. May I?” he said politely, smiling. He doffed his cap, and held out his hand. Charlotte was hesitant, but if he was a doctor…

“Charlotte.” she said, sticking her scraped hand out. He gently took it and examined it, wiping away some blood. She shivered; his hands were cold. And surprisingly boney. He turned hers this way and that, looking it over.

“Hmm. Just seems like a simple scrape, nothing too major. But you’ve got rocks underneath your skin, tsk tsk. If they stay there, they can impede the healing process, and you’ll have to dig them out later. Not to mention the chance for infection! Tell me miss Charlotte, do you have any pressing matters right now?” he asked.

“Uh, no…” she said uncertainly.

“Then please allow me to help. I have medical supplies, though not on me of course. Derek and I live just down the street. If I may, please come with us. I can remove them with my tweezers and bandage you up right quick, and while I keep my lollipops at my office, I can send you on your way with a nice warm slice of pecan pie. It should be ready by now.”

“Yum! Dessert’s ready!” Derek said.

“Oh, I couldn’t. Besides, I really should be going…” Charlotte tried to excuse herself, not liking the direction the conversation was going.

“Nonsense, I insist! It’ll just be a minute, Besides, you look like you could stand to warm up a bit, my dear. And if I let him, Derek will grow sick on pie, it’s really too much for the both of us. What do you say?” he said, smiling widely. Charlotte knew she shouldn’t...but the guy had a grandkid. He was a doctor. And he was pretty thin, so Charlotte supposed if anything happened she could deal with it. And most importantly, he had a warm house and food. Charlotte had run away last afternoon, and hadn’t slept or eaten yet.

“I mean...if it’s not gonna bother you.” she said meekly.

“No bother at all! Come Derek, let’s escort the lady home.” George said brightly.

“Kay!” Charlotte blinked, doing a double take. He sounded as exuberant as the last five minutes, but she could have sworn she saw him with an incredibly sad and forlorn expression, just now. She must have imagined it though, because he was running around them excitedly.

“Now forgive me my dear, but is everything...alright? I don’t seem to recall seeing you around here before, and this area can be...hazardous for a young girl walking alone.” George said. Charlotte winced, then sighed.

“Yeah, don’t get across the river that much. I’m visiting a friend.” The lie was so obvious both George and Derek stared nonplussed at her. She sighed again. “Uh, sorry. Truth is- I kinda don’t have a place to go. I’m technically homeless at the moment.” she admitted.

“My word! How terrible at such a young, tender age.” George said, surreptitiously wiping his mouth. “What of your parents?”

“Stepdad’s the reason I’m not there. Mom’ll defend him, even to the cops.” Charlotte said ruefully.

“What a horrid situation. No one to look for you, look after you. It’s terrible when no one cares. Well, we care, isn’t that right Derek?”

“Yeah.” the boy said, infinitely more morose than Charlotte had heard, but she wasn’t listening. She was lost in her own sorrows traipsing on in silence.

“Here we are!” George said. Charlotte gaped as they rounded the corner. It was a three-story dark Victorian house, just sitting at the end of the block. A shutter waved in the wind, and the bare trees scratched the roof like clawed fingers. The sun was going down, casting the whole estate in shadow. Despite that, it was overwhelmingly beautiful, classic and timeless. Derek bounded up the porch.

“It’s a beautiful place, but what’s it doing here?” Charlotte wondered aloud.

“Oh, it was built by a rich eccentric back in the late nineteenth century, before property values...declined. It has all the modern accommodations though. I picked it up for cheap, because it’s so close to the junkyard.” George explained with a chuckle. “Now, come in and have some pie, my dear.”

“Um…” Charlotte had one last moment of hesitation. The open door was entirely dark, the hallway a stygian mouth looking to swallow her up. The old man placed his hands on her shoulders. They were very cold, and his fingers longer than she remembered.

“Come come, my dear. We must fix you up, yes. A lovely little girl like you shouldn’t be out in the cold like this. Come in, eat your fill. Derek will too. As will I, my sweet.” he whispered into her ear. She didn’t see him smile, a ghastly grin that showed all his teeth. She shuddered. No matter what the old man did, it couldn’t be worse than what she left. At least it was warm.

“Ok.” she said meekly.

“Good girl.” The old man guided her into the house, Derek following sorrowfully behind. The door closed. It wasn’t as bad as Charlotte feared.

It was worse.