I found Kira not far from the farmer's market.

There was a park about a block away, and when I looked a few other places and could not find her I decided to think like an eight year old girl. She was sitting on one of the swings, eating an apple. As I approached her, she made no acknowledgement that I was even there.

"Where did you get that apple, Kira?" I asked gently.

I didn't think that she was going to answer. For a long moment, silence stretched between the two of us. The solemn look on her face broke my heart. She was much more grown up than a girl her age should be.

"My dad doesn't really buy food."

This wasn't what I expected. She was clearly smarter than most kids her age, being able to answer the question I'd really been asking: why had she been stealing again? I hesitated, not sure how to respond to this.

"Why doesn't he buy food?"

"He uh...He spends a lot of money on beer."

"Does he leave you alone a lot?"

"Yes, but I like that."

"Does your dad hit you, Kira?" I asked.

She looked at me then, making eye contact for the first time in the conversation. There was a fear in her eyes then, one I can tell she was good at hiding. Her voice shook as she spoke.

"Only when I'm bad."

I hated him. I didn't even know him, and I hated him. How could he do this to a defenseless little girl? Someone who loved him, who needed him to be there for her, to protect and provide for her. Not to abuse and neglect her.

"Is your dad home now?" I asked.

"Daddy is at the bar now," Kira answered.

"Can I see where you live?"

Kira hopped off the swing then, tossing aside the apple that she had finished. She started walking toward a neighborhood the other way from downtown. Reaching the other end of the park, we reached an intersection. With out a word,  she reached up and grabbed my hand.

She trusted me.

I realized this then that Kira was an introvert, and she probably wouldn't talk or let me anywhere near her if she didn't trust me. I wasn't sure what I'd done to deserve her trust. All I'd been doing was asking questions about her home life, which I'm sure was intimidating to someone who was trained to hide it. Once we were across the street, she let go of my hand.

We walked for a while in silence, and I watched as the houses got steadily and steadily less nice. Finally, Kira stopped in front of a house that had a dilapidated metal fence surrounding the yard that had dead grass and an even more dead tree. The house was a light blue, and the paint was chipped and one of the shudders was almost falling off. The stone of the porch was broken in pieces.

"I'll show you inside," She said, reaching forward and pushing open the metal fence.

The inside was not much better than the inside. It was sort of bare, the living room holding nothing but a couch, a coffee table and a TV on a small stand. The coffee table was littered with beer bottles. The kitchen was about the same, and the entire house was in need of a good cleaning.

I followed her up the rickety stairs to her room, which had only  a few toys, a dresser and a mattress on the floor. It was easily the cleanest room in the house, much more organized than the others.

Over the course of the next hour, I took every empty beer bottle and threw it in the trash can at the end of the driveway. I cleaned up what I could and Kira and I went to the nearest store and I bought a good amount of food for her. I put what needed to be cold in the fridge and hid the rest in her room.

I also put some cash underneath her mattress. He wouldn't look there...He wouldn't expect a young girl to have money, nor food. It was my guess he didn't come in here that often.

The last thing I did was write my phone number on a piece of paper and give it to her.

We were in the kitchen and I was about to cook her something when we heard a bottle break outside. Kira rushed to the living room, looking out of the window to see her father stumbling up the driveway.

"You have to leave! He'll be so mad," Kira began, putting her hands on my back and pushing me towards the kitchen. "You can't be here."

"Okay, I'll go out the back. I'll go out the back right now," I said reassuringly.

"You can't tell anyone. You can't tell anyone," She pleaded.

"I won't tell anyone, I promise," I said.

It was a lie, and I knew it. I felt bad about it but I had to do what was best for her.

"You call me if you need anything, okay? Anything. I don't care what time it is."

"You have to go!" She said.

"Okay, I'm going. I'm going. Go hide in your room, okay?" I asked.

With out another word, she darted from the kitchen with a speed I didn't know she was capable of. I heard her go up the stairs and the front door begin to open, and I made my exit out of the back door.

With a heavy heart, I made my way back to my car. I made my way back home, a little bit exhausted by what I had seen. What I knew she was going through. Now that I knew a little bit of what she was going through, I could help her.

I was going to talk to Aunt Lauren about this.

What I didn't expect was for Emmett to be home. I knew I wasn't going to be able to lie to him. I didn't like lying anyway, and he was able to see me...Right through me. I knew that he knew I was lying about it.

When I walked into the house, he came back from the kitchen and bent down to kiss me.

"Hey, baby. Where have you been?"

"Oh, I just went to the farmers market and got some fruit. I've been craving them," I answered, holding up the bag of fruits I'd gotten. "I'm going to make an apple pie tonight."

"You know the way to a man's heart, don't you?" He asked. "My mom brought over dinner for you. Go ahead and sit down and I'll make you a plate."

I sat down at the table, watching as he bustled around the kitchen.

We were eating in silence for a while before he spoke, not looking up from his food.

"Why don't you feel comfortable telling me the truth?" He asked.

He set his fork down then, meeting my eyes as I too set down my silverware. My heart raced.

"W-what do you mean?" I asked, stumbling over the words.

He took in a sharp breath, clearly holding onto his patience.

"It took you a while to tell me you were pregnant. Now you're clearly hiding something from me."

"What do you mean?"

"Charlotte, please. You're not very good at lying. please just tell me."

So I told him. I told him everything, and I could tell by the way he clenched his jaw and didn't say anything as I spoke.

"So let me get this straight," He said, his voice tight and laced with anger. "You went to an abusive drunks house? By yourself?"

"Yes, but nothing bad happened."

"You're lucky nothing bad happened. Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?" He asked. "What if he would have came home?"

Well, I had told him almost everything.

"He...He kind of did. I snuck out the back door."

"God damn it, Charlotte," He snapped, slamming his hand down on the table. "You could have gotten hurt! The baby could have gotten hurt!"

He was right. I hadn't thought about that, and I felt suddenly guilty.

"I just wanted to help," I said quietly, looking down at his lap.

When Emmett spoke again, his voice had lowered but was firm.

"You will not be going back there."

"But I told-"

"No," He said, cutting me off. "You are not going back there. End of discussion."

With that, he got up and walked out of the kitchen.