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she was doing. At one point she brought me a blanket and a pillow.
    “Okay, goodnight,” she said, as she turned to walk away.
    “Emily, why are you really doing all this?”
    “Again, It feels like the right thing to do.” She paused. “This is unusual for me to do this, but there is something different about you, James King. Not to mention again that I do really need the money.”
    “You don’t even know me.” I shrugged.
    “I know what I saw, and what I heard at your mother’s house. That’s all I need to know, right now.”
    My heart felt as if she had pulled it out, and stuffed it back inside of me. What is this girl doing to me? She gave me a half smile and turned to walk out of the room.
    “Night,” I pushed out. My voice was barely audible.
    I laid down on the couch and let the memory of her voice soothe me to sleep. I was now spread out on that thing, with one leg thrown over the top of the couch. I was comfortable. I was relaxed. I was safe. At least for now. Minutes passed, hours passed. Shoot, it felt like days had passed, but it hadn’t. I didn’t know how long I was sleeping for. I just knew it was pitch black in the room, when the sound of crying woke me from my rest. I jumped up, rubbed my eyes and looked around.
    For a minute I was shaken. I didn’t know where I was. I wasn’t in my tiny cell, and everything around me looked unfamiliar. I had to remind myself that I was out of jail, and staying in a stranger’s home. I walked down the hallway toward the noise, and stopped in front of the cracked door.
    “You don’t think I know she’s dying, Gabriel. I’m doing the best I can. I’m working double shifts just to get money over there.” I quietly stepped in closer.
    I peeked through to see Emily sitting on the edge of her bed with one hand up to her ear. Her elbows rested on her legs. She wiped the tears from her eyes, as she listened to the other person on the line speak.
    “I’ll send some more when I get paid. Tell her I love her.” She paused. “Bye.”
    She started to weep hard, I mean really hard as soon as she hung up. I took a step forward to open her door, but I didn’t want to intrude. This was really none of my business. I turned around to walk back to the couch, but I couldn’t just leave her in there crying. I quickly swung around again, and to my surprise, she was standing there. Her cheeks were wet and her eyes were sunken in with worry.
    “I wasn’t eavesdropping. I was looking for the bathroom,” I blurted out like an idiot.
    She pointed down the hall. I nodded, and walked as fast as I could. I felt like a little kid that had got caught spying on their parents. Once inside, I shut the door and leaned up against the back of it. Curiosity was killing me. Who was dying? Why was she crying and what was the money for? Do I ask her? No. No way. That’s prying. Whatever she was going through was personal. If she wanted me to know, she’d tell me. After doing my business in there, I slowly opened the door, and quietly walked back to the couch. Her bedroom door was shut and there was no sign of her. The apartment was dead quiet, and as bad as I wanted to go knock on her door, I didn’t. I laid back down and after a million things ran through my head, I went back to sleep.
    The sound of pans being tossed into the sink woke me. The smell of eggs wavered about and it smelled delicious. I sat up and rubbed my eyes. Once again, I had to remind myself where I was. This would take some time. I looked over into the kitchen, to see her standing there with her back to me in what had to be the shortest shorts I had ever seen. If I didn’t have morning wood when I awoke, I did now. She was arranging food on two plates, and it was the funniest thing I had ever seen. She was moving the fruit around and lining up the toast, so that it sat at an angle. It was obvious that she wanted to impress me by the effort she was making. I don’t think she knew that she could have heated me up