What's she Worth to You?

Jane Doe

E R I N

I silently pull out the top drawer of the oak wood dresser. I look through the clothes in the dresser, trying to see if this girl could wear any of them, because I'm getting sick of the plain white cotton tees that Will gave her from the hospital. I hear her stirring behind me and check my watch. 10:28. I'm already a little more than 2 hours late for work, but I can't just leave her here with her without telling her what's going on.

I hear her waking up and walk over to the bed, kneeling down to meet her eye level. Her eyes flutter open and I smile at her.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty," I whisper and her lips curl into a shy smile. I run a gentle hand through her hair and send her a loving gaze.
"Hey sweet girl, can you come down stairs with me?" Her eyebrows furrow into a confused look, yet she sits up anyway, pushing herself out of bed. Both of us forgetting her balance issue, she falls straight to the ground, due to a mixture of tiredness and injury.
"Oh my-"

"I'm okay," she says in a tired voice. "Just lost my balance." I take her hand and she shakily finds her footing.

"Are you good?" I ask softly and she bravely nods, taking my shoulder to steady her step.
"Okay," I whisper and she takes a deep breath.

And slowly, yet surely, she begins to walk. She looks up and me with the biggest smile on her face.

"I'm walking..." she whispers with true joy behind her words. I nod, matching her smile with my own.

"Look at you," she laughs and walks out the door, holding my hand with a firm grip. I hold her tightly as she walks down the stairs, and I'm glad I did, because around the fifth step, she slips on the carpet. I grab her by the waist, yet she jerks away, rejecting my touch. I look up at her and she looks just as confused as I am.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," she shakes her head and shrugs her shoulders. "I don't know what that was." I sigh.

Because I do.

From what Will told me this girl has been very heavily abused, physically, sexually, you name it. There's no wonder she's a bit jumpy. But the thing is, she doesn't remember any of it. They completely wiped her memory.

I'm dreading the time when that particular memory comes back to her...

"It's okay, love. Let's keep going," I say and continue to help her down the stairs.

"I was going to ask you-" she stops her sentence and I suspect I know why. 

There, sitting at the small circular kitchen table, is a tall, tan lady with brown hair pulled back in a pony tail as well as brown eyes. A small necklace hangs around her neck as she sits with an Agatha Christi novel open on the black table and sips her tea out of the white cup she holds in her hand.

The girl hides behind me, obviously scared of the stranger in my kitchen. I laugh slightly.

"It's okay, honey." I say and she looks up from her book, a smile spreading across her face. She closes the red book and stands up.

"Oh my gosh, look at her," she whispers in her thick Israeli accent and the girl shakes her head.

"Who," her sentence stops there. I gently pull her out from behind me and look her in the eyes.