Chapter 1

This story will include a lot of French, so rather than translate it all the time I'm just going to write in English. Just assume that when Olivia and the boy are talking to each other, it's in French.

Olivia was stretched out of her bed, hands behind her head, unable to sleep. It had been a growing problem lately and she sometimes took a dose of whatever medicine she had that would cause drowsiness. Tonight, though, she didn't have to work the next day, so instead of taking a couple Benadryl she got up to make herself something to eat. Feeling ambitious and seeing she had no more pre-made spaghetti in the freezer, she decided to make more sauce, along with enough spaghetti for at least two meals, which she could finish later. She often made large meals and ate them over the course of several days or froze them for later so she didn't have to cook as often. Her cooking wasn't terrible, it was actually pretty good considering her mother had never taught her how, but she didn't have time for it.

When the sauce was done, she put most of it into plastic containers and then into the freezer. Then she put some of the finished spaghetti on her plate and poured the rest of the sauce on top. Before she could take a mouthful, though, she heard a loud bang outside, like something hitting her door hard, and then a sort of yelp. She grabbed her gun, more out of instinct than anything, and peered out the peephole. Seeing nothing, she carefully opened the door, and quickly hid her gun when she saw what had happened.

A little boy, no more than five or six, was standing outside her door, clutching a bleeding nose in one hand and a rubber ball in the other. Obviously his aim was off, and it had bounced of Olivia's door right back at his nose. Normally she might just smile and offer to clean the little boy up, but it was almost 3 o'clock in the morning and there didn't appear to be any adult with the boy. He was dressed in nice – if not exactly brand new – clothes, which meant he probably had a home somewhere.

Olivia kneeled down so she could look in the little boy's terrified eyes. He was looking around and is trying to find the best escape route, probably thinking Olivia would be angry, but he stayed rooted to the spot. When Olivia spoke, his eyes darted back to meet hers. "Would you like to come in and wash up?" As she spoke, she slid her gun carefully behind the door so the boy wouldn't see it.

Again he looked around, like a trapped animal seeking escape, but he didn't move. When he looked at Olivia again, he let out a tiny whimper. "It's okay, I'm a police officer, see?" Olivia held out the badge she had left – thankfully – on the small table next to the door where she always kept her keys. The little boy dropped the ball and took the badge, studying it carefully, then looked again at Olivia helplessly.

Olivia held up her hand for the boy to stay where he was, and he nodded nervously. She grabbed a cloth from the kitchen, wet it and wrung it out in the sink, then took it back to him. He took it and wiped the blood from his nose and mouth carefully, wincing when she touched his nose. When his arm moved, she caught a glimpse of the front of his t-shirt. Olivia was pretty sure whatever was written on it wasn't on English, but she hadn't seen enough.

"Habla espanol?" Olivia tried. The boy glanced up at her again, but said nothing. "Parles-tu francais?" This time the boy's eyes widened and he nodded. Olivia was grateful he spoke French rather than Spanish, because her French skills were much stronger.

"Where are your parents?" Olivia asked him.

"My mom is at work. I…I forget my key." His eyes were brimming with tears.

"Why don't you come inside? You can wash up in the bathroom and then sleep on the couch until your mom gets home."

The boy shook his head. "No, I'm not supposed to talk to strangers, mom will be mad!"

Olivia pointed to the badge again. "I'm a police officer. It's my job to keep children safe."

He seemed to consider this for a while, looking carefully at the badge again, then finally nodded. Olivia led him into the apartment. She managed to pick up her gun again without him seeing and stuck it in her coat pocket before closing and locking the door again. She took him into the bathroom, where she helped him wash his hands and his face, then she filled the sink with water and let the bloody towel soak while she got another one for him from the kitchen. It wasn't bleeding much anymore, but Olivia knew he'd need to go to the hospital in the morning to make sure his nose wasn't broken.

She found out his name was Etienne, and he had only left his home in Dieppe a few months ago because his mom got a job offer in New York. She worked crazy hours and often went out after work to meet with people or have drinks with her co-workers. It was Etienne's responsibility to remember his key so he could get in the apartment after school. After school he had gone to a friend's house after going home to pack his things, but when he changed out of his muddy jeans he forgot to put his key in his new jeans. So when he got home just before nine, he had been locked out. Olivia couldn't believe no one had noticed him before then. When he was cleaned up, she went back into the hallway and found his backpack with various toys and a pair of pajamas in it, along with the ball that had hit him in the nose. Back in her apartment, Etienne was standing in the kitchen. Olivia could actually hear his stomach growling as he looked at her plate of spaghetti.

She smiled. "Do you want some?" Etienne shook his head, but Olivia lifted him onto the counter and set the plate in his lap anyway. He picked up the fork and started eating, slurping up the long noodles, turning his mouth slowly orange with the sauce. His nosebleed seemed to have stopped.

After finishing the plate of spaghetti – with some help from Olivia – Etienne curled up on the couch, a towel under his head just in case the nosebleed started again, and fell asleep. Olivia finally had a chance to really look at him. He was small for his age, she saw, his limbs practically drowning in his jeans and hoodie. His hair was dark brown and his skin had only the barest touch of brown even though he probably spent plenty of time outdoors. His eyes, she had seen earlier, were a bright, icy blue unlike any she'd ever seen. It broke her heart to think that he had spent hours in the hall because his mother had left him alone. Olivia would have a few words for that women when she showed up. That was the last thing she thought before she fell asleep, the door open in case Etienne woke up.

Olivia awoke several hours later with a start to the sound of pounding on her door. This time it was someone knocking rather than the single bang of Etienne's ball. When she went into the living room, she was amazed to see Etienne still sound asleep, despite the noise, a tiny smile on his face as if her were having a pleasant dream. A small smile touched her own lips, until she opened the door. "I'm sorry to wake you, but my son is missing and I was just wondering…" The woman looked flustered and started babbling in rapid French.

"No, no, he's okay, he's here," Olivia said reassuringly.

"What? In your apartment?" Now she seemed angry.

"He was laying with his ball in the hallway and hurt his nose. He said he forgot his key so I invited him in."

"He went into a stranger's apartment?" The colour in her face was rising with anger and she brushed past Olivia towards the couch where her son was still sleeping.

"No, no, I'm a police officer. I showed him my badge; he's perfectly safe here."

"Don't come near my son again." She scooped up her son, who barely even opened his eyes, and started back towards the door.

Olivia held up her hand to stop her. "He's only a little boy. You can't leave him alone in your apartment, and he's too young to have his own key to remember. If I ever find out he's alone in your apartment again, I'll have you arrested." The woman just glared at Olivia and then brushed past her angrily. Olivia glimpsed them going into their apartment and memorized the number. As she watched the woman turn to put her keys in the lock, she noticed Etienne's shirt had been pushed up by his mother's arm and his back looked oddly dark. Olivia was too far away to see anything clearly, but it looked like a large bruise.