I'm a twin and I always wondered what it would've been like for Henry to have a twin, or any type of sibling/friend during the Once Upon a Time era. It always seemed like he was with adults and had no other friends outside of them. So I decided to create my own character. Her name is Calla Lily Griffin. She was adopted by Jennifer and Andrew Griffin. Jenny died when Calla was one and Andy died when she was five. Her story will come out more as I delve further into this story, even though, I'm not sure if I will. Anyway, Calla's been in the system from six to ten. That is, until Henry finds her and decides to go on a new adventure with him.
Calla looks like a young Mae Whitman.
Also, I know there will be a lot of OC's in this chapter, but Emma and the rest of the crew will be coming into play soon enough. I just needed some groundwork to set the stage for the beginning.
Chapter 1: Prologue
"You're too late."
"No, no! Open it."
"I'm sorry, she's gone."
"At least let me say goodbye."
The glass opens, revealing a woman with curly dark hair. Prince Charming kisses her softly on the lips, a final kiss to bid farewell to his one true love. A burst of magic erupts, suddenly, causing Charming to jerk away as it bounces away from his parting lips. Snow White awakens with a sharp gasp. Her eyes meet his as they struggle to adjust to the light hitting them once again.
She gives him a soft, adoring smile. "Y-You...You found me."
"Did you ever doubt I would?" Prince Charming asked, offering a signature smile. The warmth in his deep forest green eyes causes Snow to shoot him an almost bemused look.
"Truthfully?" She smirked. "The glass coffin gave me pause." Her eyes glint in mild amusement, although, this situation isn't one to be taken lightly. The life or death of it all flashes through her mind. She doesn't wish to comprehend what would've happened had Charming never found her.
Prince Charming wraps his arms around her. "Well, you never have to worry, I will always find you."
"Do you promise?"
Calla Lily Griffin wakes up with a start. She should be used to waking up at any hour by now, but somehow her body has yet to adjust. She stares up at the bed directly above hers where her younger foster sister, Janelle Booker, is happily snoozing away. At least, somebody can sleep tonight, Calla thought grumpily. Any normal ten year old would of wanted, nay demanded, the top bunk. But, Calla got here after Ja-Ja and she didn't care where she slept as long as it was close to a window. The only reason she didn't take the other bunk bed was because Ja-Ja's feelings would've been crushed if she had. On Calla's first day here, Janelle asked Calla to sleep in her bottom bunk and Calla couldn't very well tell the then-six year old to bug off. She reminded Calla a lot of Ryan, all sweet and hopeful. So, Calla decided the bottom bunk suited her just fine and it does.
Except, when she has dreams that wake her up. And dreams like this have been happening almost every night for the last year. When Calla asked her social worker, Quinn Abbott, about them, the woman babbled about them 'being her way of coping with what happened'. Calla isn't so sure anymore though.
Tip-toeing out of bed, careful not to wake Janelle, Calla sneaks downstairs. Dreams like these always make her thirsty. The ten year old honestly wonders what these mean though. Surely, they can't still be about April and what happened with Jesse. That just wouldn't make any sense. April would've been part of the dream had they been part of her 'coping' or whatever. Calla opens the fridge with a tired frown. She'll never understand what all this means and that's the most frustrating part. Her dreams replay like memory-themed movies and there's little Calla can do to control what happens. She takes out the container of orange juice and pops it open.
"I just want to be normal." Calla mumbled under her breath. A part of the girl she refuses to acknowledge knows that will never be the case. Too much has happened to her. She lost her adoptive parents, then her Uncle got too messed up in the head, then the Fram placement went sideways, and now she's here. Calla's somehow stuck in a home where she knows she'll likely stay until she turns eighteen. No one wants a kid past the age of six. At least that's what she's heard Alyssa snip whenever she and Taylor get into a particular fight.
As she takes another swig of orange juice and uses her free hand to wipe her mouth after, Calla scratches her neck wondering what to do to pass the time before she really gets exhausted. When she avoids sleep long enough, it helps keep the strange dreams at bay. Setting the container back into the fridge, Calla jumps at the sound of someone clearing their throat, she turns to see her older foster sister, Taylor Tate, giving her an odd look. The teenager thought she was coming in at a time when everyone would be asleep. She also brought in a house guest who had been pacing on the porch.
"I hope you don't do that a lot cause that's gross." Taylor shudders. Calla looks over at her with an almost amused kind of glance. "Did Nana Mags wake up while I was gone?" She only snuck back into the Schafer house five minutes ago before hearing movement shuffling around the kitchen. The sixteen year old thought their foster mother, Maggie, was wandering about. Maggie does that sometimes. She wakes up in the middle of the night and forgets that it's much too late to be up. That's when either, she, her sister Alyssa, or sometimes Calla have to wake up and help convince the older woman to go back to bed. But, tonight, tonight, Taylor decided she deserved a break from everything and snuck out to see her boyfriend, Elijah Cox.
"No," Calla shakes her head. That's likely what woke Calla up last night, not being woken up. Weirdly enough the ten year old has grown accustomed to her foster parent making some sort of noise. Maggie's really sweet, even if she has her quirks. In Calla's opinion, she's the most easygoing foster…which may be due to the fact that she has her 'spaced out days' as Alyssa likes to call them. Luckily Janelle doesn't notice or else she'd likely blab to anyone that'd listen, but Taylor, Lyssa and Calla know better. None of them want Maggie to be alone.
Taylor nods. "Good." she pauses before her eyebrows knit together. "Did Lyssie make you and Ja-Ja dinner?"
"We had mac-and-cheese and hot-dogs." Calla is evasive. She doesn't want to get Lyssie in trouble. Taylor, being the oldest girl in the Schafer household has cast herself as their unofficial leader, which suits Calla just fine because she makes herself scarce to play with kids in the neighborhood. Lyssie, who's fourteen and barely two years younger than Taylor, doesn't like the regime. And Janelle, being seven, and completely unaware of her surroundings could care less.
Truth be told, Alyssa left to hang out with her friends too. But, Calla isn't going to tell Taylor that. They don't need the red headed sisters feuding over something else.
"Okay," Taylor abruptly remembers she sleepily invited some kid into the house too. He demanded to see Calla and the teenager doubts he would've stopped bugging her if he didn't get his way. She only agreed because the persistent little brat wouldn't quit babbling and Taylor still had a buzz on. He also reminded her of her dead little brother, Wyatt, and the idea of leaving him on the porch stung too much. Stepping to the side slightly, the red headed girl nods to the fourth grade boy. "Some boy is here to see you."
"Who's he?" Calla asked curiously. An eerie sense of familiarity tingles in her chest, but she doesn't recognize him from the park or anywhere and the blonde haired girl is known for her memory.
"Don't know, says he's here for you." Taylor shrugged glancing at the oddly dressed boy. Usually, kids his age like wearing tee shirts and shit like Calla, for example. That girl practically lives in tee shirts, ratty blue jeans, sneakers, and her army jacket. This kid, though, he's sporting a scarf with a button down plaid shirt, and an overcoat. He looks like some washed-up writer threw him up. "I'm going to bed. You need me, holler." Meaning if this boy suddenly gets weird, kick him in the balls and come find me. Calla nods at the hidden message.
Calla waits until Taylor has wandered out of the kitchen before glancing at the boy. As though gaining confidence in Taylor's absence, he stands up a little straighter. "Uh so uh did you…did you know…did anyone ever say you had a brother? I mean well not a brother, but like a twin brother." His question causes Calla's mouth to dry. She shakes her head, wordlessly. "Well, umm you do. It's me. I'm your twin brother." He rocks on his heels. "Henry."
"Y-You're lying." Calla stuttered, she read in her file that her twin brother was sent to a family in Maine.
"No, I'm not. I swear I'm not. Here, I can prove it to you." Henry takes his backpack off, pulling out several papers and files. He lays them out on the island table and pushes them over to her. "See, this is my birth certificate and there's a file here that says I had a twin sister and your name is Calla Griffin right?" Calla nods as she peers at the documents in mild confusion. "I don't know why my mom made a file on you, but she did and when I was trying to find my, our birth mom, I found out about you and so I asked Mr. Gold to help me find you and he did," Henry still isn't sure if that was a good idea. Mr. Gold is bad news in his town, but he had to find his twin so they could bring back the happy endings as a family. "And now I'm here cause I need your help so we can find our real mom."
"Can you tell me all that again, but slower?"
Twenty minutes later and Calla is only marginally less confused. While they talk over bowls of Lucky Charms, Calla has to admit this kid, Henry; he might be who he says he is. She still can't believe he traveled all this way just so they could 'save his town' from the 'Evil Queen' who just so happened to be his mother. That's way too much for any ten year old to swallow at four thirty seven in the morning. But, he believes it. Calla has met kids like this, in-between the Fram and Schafer placement; Calla stayed in a care home where some kids believed in fairy-tales envisioning their parents as being heroes off to save the world is easier than admitting they're just screwed up people who never wanted you. In Henry's case, Calla can tell he has his problems. And because he's her brother, she wants to help him. She just doesn't know how.
Henry brings the bowl of now sugary milk to his lips and pauses. "You believe me right? No one believes me. They all think I'm crazy, but I…you're my sister." He chances a glance at the girl, who he somehow thought would look more like him, but doesn't. Calla has dirty blonde almost shaggy curls and blue eyes which greatly contrasts his straight brown hair and green eyes. Henry guesses siblings don't always look alike, based on his research on fraternal twins; they more often than not, don't appear all that similar.
"I don't know." Calla replied, deciding to go with the closest thing to the truth she can find.
"That's okay; you don't have to believe right now. Just come home with me and I'll show you." The fourth grader would've been surprised if she did. He sees something flicker across her eyes, sadness maybe, it flashes so fast Henry isn't sure what it is. Before he has a chance to question her on it, his gaze suddenly flickers to the black Sharpie scribbled across the Lucky Charms box. "Who's Lyssa?"
"My foster sister, she writes her name on everything she likes. Don't worry about it." Her first week here, Calla didn't eat much; partially due to fear of Alyssa Tate which is fair considering that girl has a temper worse than a volcano. Although, the younger blonde now understands her bark is much worse than her bite. But, it was mostly due to what happened at the Fram placement stirring up traumatic memories for her. Food lost its taste for a while. That is, until, her social worker, Quinn started taking her to Dairy Queen every other Friday.
Henry's face contorts into one of sympathy. "Your foster sister? You never got adopted?" That doesn't make any sense; his mother's file said Calla got adopted into the Griffin family. Was she somehow wrong?
"I did too!" Heat rises to Calla's cheeks at his look. She hates it when people look at her like that, like they feel bad for her or something. It's the same whenever anyone finds out she's a foster kid; it doesn't matter if they're a grown-up or just a kid, they always purse their lips making that suckered sad face. Calla huffed, feeling annoyed and embarrassed. "They…they died. My mother got sick when I was a baby and then my daddy…" she chokes up at the memory, suddenly losing her appetite. "He died later on." Her voice is solemn. "I live with Maggie now – and Lyssa, Taylor, and Janelle. So, that's why I can't go with you cause if I do, I'll get sent somewhere worse."
"Is it bad here?" Henry asked in a soft voice. He looks around, nothing looks out of place. The kitchen itself appears welcoming with an array of artwork on the fridge and random toys scattered about. If anything this house seems more comforting than frightening, but Henry guesses looks can be deceiving.
"No, it's good here. That's why I don't want to get in trouble cause if I do, I'll get sent someplace bad." Calla huffs at him, finding his lack of common sense annoying. Henry bites his lip. Taking pity on him, the girl decides to tell him how it is. "The big kids, like Taylor and Lyssie, they tell me if you're bad, like running away bad, then you sometimes maybe get sent to a place for bad kids…except I'll never get sent there." Calla realized with a slight smirk gracing her features. Her primary social worker, Quinn Abbott, has a soft spot for her and tends to let the fourth grader get away with more than she should. However, with Quinn being on maternity leave, Calla's stuck with Kimberly Downing – a social worker who isn't all that social.
The boy is thoroughly confused. Talking to Calla is like talking to someone who only tells half of a story. "So, can you come home with me then?"
"I'm not supposed to go anywhere without my social worker's permission." She replied causing his shoulders to slump in defeat.
"We could tell her I'm your brother." Henry offered brightly.
"Then you'd probably get sent back to Maine without me or her." Calla shrugs, not meaning to make light of this, but that's the truth. She's been in the system long enough to know how it works.
"Her, you mean our mother, Emma?" The twin brother squints at her, more confused than annoyed. Worry seeps into his bones as Calla's words register with him. They have to complete the mission to bring Emma to Maine. "I can't get sent back without you and Emma, but," he conceded. "I don't want you to get in any trouble."
An idea suddenly springs to Calla's head. Quinn is gone for the foreseeable future and Kimberly is less diligent with check-ins than Quinn. The bun-wearing woman also likes for her cases to make her look good. Since, Calla does online schooling for gifted youths, she could technically go anywhere – and Kimberly has been hounding her to do an abroad trip where she visits a town for a semester. Apparently, Calla's name was 'accidentally' put in the gambit just two days after Quinn went on leave. Calla isn't stupid. She knows Kimberly did that so Calla would do well and thus, make Kimberly appear like a star social worker for promoting her. At the time, Calla told Kimberly to take a flying hike, but just one email to the woman saying she decided to go and chose a school in Maine could change everything. Knowing Kimberly, she most likely wouldn't even think to look into it.
"But, maybe I could go anyway." A mischievous twinkle forms in Calla's bright blue eyes.
"What do you mean?" The boy suddenly looks up from his cereal. He doesn't like the way Calla's smirking and he's only known her for like ten minutes.
"Quinn's gone away for a while."
"Is that allowed? Quinn leaving like that, I mean."
"Yeah, she had a baby. I don't know for how long she'll be gone, but Tay says when people have babies they're allowed time to spend with them." Calla replied as the pieces begin to click in her head. "So, now I have Kimberly and she doesn't care. If I tell her I'm going away for school then she probably definitely won't check-in much. All I'll hafta do is send her emails about my grades and call her once in a while and she's not gonna care cause Maine is far away." As long as Quinn doesn't find out then she'll get away with this.
Henry's eyes bug out a little. "You're gonna lie?"
"It's not a lie, well not a real one. I'll go to school online in your town so it's not a real lie if that's what I say I'm going for." Calla dips the spoon back into her cereal, moving it back and forth. When she glances over to see Henry's doubtful gaze, the girl looks back down at the mushy breakfast. "It's just leaving stuff out. That's way different than lying." Although the ten year old highly doubts Quinn would see it that way. But, Calla wants to assist Henry, he needs her help – and meeting their mother could be interesting.
"If you say so," he still doesn't look convinced but Henry isn't going to dissuade her from coming. He needs her to be there to help convince Emma to go. Bringing the milky mess to his lips, Henry takes another sip. Calla shoots him a look of confusion. "What?" Henry asked feeling more than a little self-conscious. "Do I have something on my face?" He wipes his mouth with his sleeve and offers his twin a nervous smile. She continues staring at him as though he suddenly grew three heads.
Calla's tone holds no judgment. "We have milk in the fridge."
"I like it better this way. What? You don't drink it when you're done?" Henry asked. His mom conditioned him to do this whenever he ate cereal – as to not be wasteful – so it's become as automatic as saying 'bless you' after someone sneezes.
"No, I don't like milk." The blonde haired girl informed him. After her adoptive father's death, Calla lived with her Uncle Kevin and he to make her drink a glass of milk every day, deeming it good for her. Well, she drank so much milk that Calla got sick of it. So, Calla ate breakfast slowly, taking little sips of her milk and waiting until Kevin left the room before dumping her milk in the sink. He only caught her once, but he simply laughed it off. Somehow Calla thought he'd be madder, but he wasn't. Kevin gave her up just over a year of having her. He would get into his dark moods where even his then-girlfriend, Maura, couldn't calm him down. Calla doesn't remember what she did to make him want to give her up, but he did.
"But, it's in your cereal." Henry doesn't even bother to hide his confusion.
Calla turns to him with an affronted grimace. "That's just to make sure it doesn't taste chalky." It isn't that the little girl can't drink milk, it's that she won't. The taste alone brings back weird, confusing memories.
"Why do you put it in your cereal if you don't like it?"
"Cause, orange juice in cereal tastes gross." Calla has tried it before and the last time she did, she regretted it.
Henry shrugs at her strange ideology. For a solid minute there's silence until Henry swallows the remainder of his cereal milk. "Calla, are you really gonna come home with me?" He asked with an uneasy amount of anxiety in his voice. Calla looks over at him and nods. "Good. I just hope you don't get in any trouble. I don't want you to get sent someplace bad because of me."
"I won't." She assured him. Quinn would never let that happen, Calla thought to herself. Quinn has been the only consistent adult that actually cares. As though just realizing something, Calla peers at her brother. "Henry, when we find her, we can't tell her the truth about me. I don't want her to know I'm a foster kid, okay?" Calla declared seriously. If Emma is like any other adult she knows and she probably is, all adults are the same in that they don't like getting in trouble, then she can't know the truth.
"Why not? And why do you keep calling our mom, her?" Henry's eyes become even wider. He doesn't like the idea of lying to someone who they're asking for help from. It just doesn't seem right. But, looking at Calla, he knows being a foster kid is her secret to tell; not his. Opening his mouth to answer, Henry is cut off.
Both twins turn at the sound of Taylor murmuring, "Your what?"
Calla bites her lip; she never told anyone about having a brother. It would have led to questions she didn't know the answer to. As her gaze goes to the younger Tate sister, Calla can't help but notice a bemused smirk crinkle Alyssa's cheeks. The fourteen year old sees enough dramas to know this is well-worth viewing too. This is such a weird thing to stumble into. Alyssa heard her older sister come upstairs to check on first Janelle, then Maggie, and planned on going to their room to check on her too when they collided into one another. The younger teen got in a few hours ago to find Calla reading in the living room while Nana Maggie and Janelle slept upstairs. She didn't think anything of it, because Calla hardly sleeps anyway, that is until she heard some random boy's voice downstairs and planned on investigating. Taylor made her wait a few minutes, though, until she deemed it a fair amount of time before she decided they should venture back downstairs. Alyssa, of course, rolled her eyes at Taylor's ability to throw her weight around while simultaneously wanting to help Calla – the kid she abandoned down there. It was actually an interesting thing to stumble into, hearing the boy's statement, caused an influx of inquiries to flutter to Alyssa's mind. First and foremost, where the fuck has this brother been?
"What the hell is happening?"
"Guys, this is Henry, my twin brother. I'm going to stay with him for…I don't know, a little while." Calla's response is so cavalier that it has Alyssa doing her best to hide her snickers with a cough.
On his part, Henry offers the pair a timid grin. "Hi."
Taylor ignores him and opts to study the pair of ten year olds in front of her wearily. She woke up at Elijah's house about an hour ago to discover she fell asleep in his bed where she proceeded to sprint back home. "You were only down here for like fifteen minutes."
"In that time, she could have also bought car insurance." Alyssa joked lightly.
"Shut up, Alyssa, this isn't a joke!" Taylor whips around to snap at her little sister. She sighs in exasperation and turns back to the fourth grader, who's studying her with unnerving perception. Running a hand through her auburn colored hair, Taylor swallows hard. "Calla, you can't just leave."
"Yeah-huh, I'll tell Kimberly I'm doing the school trip thing and if Maggie asks where I am, tell her I'm on a school trip too. She'll believe you…and I'll call a bunch." The little blonde isn't worried so much about Maggie not believing them. Lately, the older woman has relied on them to help her get through the day. It used to be her forgetting was a running gag amongst the girls, but it's becoming more and more frequent and her wandering off has increased creating a newfound sense of worry amongst the Tate sisters. Of course, Calla and Janelle don't really understand, but Calla's always willing to help.
"That's not the point." Taylor sighs rubbing her brow. Being the only 'adult' in this sucks, the sixteen year old longs for the days when Maggie had her wits. "We need you here. I need you here." Calla stares up at her while Henry watches the scene unfold wondering why his twin is so needed. "You keep Maggie calm when we're at school, who's gonna do that if you aren't around?" The fourth grader hangs her head. She doesn't particularly enjoy having to do that. "Who's gonna help me when she wakes up in the middle of the night?"
Alyssa huffs, gaining everyone's attention, even Henry's. She is so sick of Taylor's bullshit. God, it's like her sister thinks she can't do anything right. "I can help, Tay. You just never let me." The ninth grader feels her temper boiling. "You'd rather guilt trip a ten year old than accept help from your own sister. I mean, damn Tay. This is Calla's brother, here, and she wants a chance to…to like know him or some shit." Alyssa took the death of their father and Wyatt hard. Losing their little brother still causes Alyssa to hyperventilate and Taylor refuses to talk about Wyatt. So Taylor should understand where Calla's desire to feel connected to someone.
"You want her to go off with some kid she just met?" The junior refuses to give in. Every time she looks at Taylor it's like seeing Wyatt all over again. He would've been Calla's age right now had he survived the car crash.
"By some kid, you mean her brother? Family is family, Taylor – and at the end of the day, family is what you have to count on." Alyssa resists the urge to roll her eyes at how corny she sounds and goes onto add. "Even if some family is bitchy sometimes," Taylor's lips twitches upwards in amusement. The younger red head smirks as she continues to add more to her case. "Dylan will help too. He likes Maggie. If you ask him to come by, he will."
The sixteen year old closes her eyes, thinking. She never wanted to be the leader of this outfit. After all, she is only a junior in high school. If it had been up to Alyssa, then everyone would do what they wanted, but letting a seven and ten year old do as they please never works out well. Taylor would know. That's what their momma did; well that and she went off to get high someplace. After daddy and Wyatt died seven years ago, momma went off the deep end. She lost herself in her grief. Then she lost them. Opening her eyes, she sighs at Calla's face, the girl is going to do whatever she wants anyway. She's stubborn like that. Taylor sighs. "You're gonna leave no matter what I say aren't you?"
Calla looks at Henry and then back at Taylor. "Uh-huh," she nods.
"Well, okay then, but like call us a bunch okay? And, don't get into too much trouble or tell anyone what you are cause then we'll all be in trouble." Taylor advised as Calla nods smiling while Henry watches the exchange with a newfound appreciation towards his sister. Dealing with these scary ginger haired girls is daunting to say the least; he scratches the back of his neck. "Hey, if you want to come back, just tell us and we'll make it happen." She hears Alyssa scoff noisily from beside her and amends that promise. "We'll try to make it happen."
Calla bobs her head up and down. Agreeing with Taylor is easier than arguing with her, which is a tactic that Alyssa has yet to pick up on. "Don't worry about me." Calla waves her off as she wanders out of the room with Henry leaping out of his chair to follow after her.
"It's not you I'm worried about." The teen mumbled under her breath.
As Calla shuffles quietly around the room, doing her best to pack up the clothes she wants, but not make much or any kind of noise. She doesn't want to wake up Janelle. The first grader would only ask too many questions. Her brother has parked himself at the wooden brown desk she shares. He traces his fingers across the names on the side, noting how there are several names etched into the wood as though it's been around long enough for there to be countless kids over the years. For reasons unknown to him, that makes Henry feel incredibly sad. He traces it in search of Calla's name and is surprised when he doesn't find hers.
"Calla," his voice is soft, careful not to wake the little girl sleeping on the top bunk. A question that's been lingering in the back of his mind is brought to the surface. "Why didn't you find a home after your parents died?" The girl paused mid-stuff. Henry is starting to realize Calla is quietly loud, she's sarcastic but that's only about the not serious things.
"I was too old, I guess." The words stumble out of her mouth faster than Calla thought and it's not technically a lie, but it isn't necessarily the truth either. She doesn't know Henry well enough to want to tell him what happened a year ago. His file only had up to her adoptive mother, Jennifer's death. Then it stopped, like time froze in that moment and nothing else happened after. But, things did happen after – life happened. "So," she decides to change the subject. "How are we gonna find Emma?"
"I looked it up in my school's computer room and it says your town is thirty-seven minutes from where she is." He had to write Emma's address on a napkin from the school cafeteria. As his gaze flickers excitedly over to his twin sister, he frowns at her dismay; he would've thought she'd be happier about this. They're going to find their mom and Calla doesn't have one to begin with. She should be pleased everything is coming together so perfectly and the minute they find her, they can set off back to Storybrooke to fix everything. "In uh Boston," he adds.
A newfound level of disappointed and shock come in waves over Calla. If she had known their birth mother was so close then…well, Calla doesn't know what she would've done. She wonders very briefly if Emma knows she lives nearby. Swallowing hard, Calla doesn't miss the way Henry is trying to study her. His face is scrunched up like he just mistook vinegar for water. With her gaze firmly on the backpack in front of her, Calla decides she's better off not voicing her wonders aloud. Leaning against the bed, Calla sits down and yawns. This is all happening so fast, granted; Henry never struck her as the act first type. It figures he'd have a plan. Calla's plans never usually are organized. They work out, but that's only due to sheer dumb luck. She didn't sleep much last night and after hearing Henry yawn too, she doubts he slept a whole lot either.
"I'm tired." Calla announced suddenly, abruptly. Henry rubs his eyes. Now that he's sitting down, he's beginning to feel the effects of going without even bothering to stop. He left late last night.
"We can't stop now. We have to find Emma." Despite these words, Henry makes no move for the door.
"We will, but I want to sleep first. Emma's not going anywhere." The girl responded as she rubs her eyes again. She really should have slept last night. Usually, she does, but Calla kept having bad dreams and she couldn't bring herself to go back to bed. So, she read and watched TV. "You can sleep in the other bunk bed if you want." She points to the second bunk bed set in their room. "Maggie says they're for 'mergency cases, but there hasn't been one of those since…" since me, Calla thought, "in forever. Just sleep in the top one so Ja-Ja won't see you when she wakes up." With that, Calla drops her backpack into her bed and snuggles under the covers.
Henry tries not to get upset. Stubborn tears form in his eyes. He's exhausted sure, but he's worried if they stop now then his mother will find him and bring him home. "If we stop then my mom will find us."
One of Calla's eyes open at his tone. She sits up in her bed and walks over to him. "No she won't. I've been moved around so much I wouldn't even know where to find me." Her joke is light, but there's a hint of honesty to it as Calla points to the other bed. "We'll get to Emma's when we wake up. I swear. Here, shake on it, when brothers and sisters shake on stuff that means it's a forever promise." She offers him her hand and grins as Henry shakes it before standing up.
"Night Calla, see you in…the afternoon?" Henry guessed teasingly. He goes over to the second bunk bed and climbs up the ladder; weirdly jealous that he never got to experience having siblings. Although, the feeling subsides when he takes in just how little Calla actually owns. All of her belongings, the ones she deems worthy of taking, are fitting into a moderately large backpack. If Henry had to pack up his whole life, he doesn't know if he'd be able to use just one backpack. Trying to find the comfy spot, Henry realizes he forgot about something. "Hey, Calla, do you know anybody that can drive cause we gotta have an adult with us for the train and bus?"
"Oh yeah, that's easy. Taylor drives. She just got her permit." Calla yawns solving his concern with a simple answer.
"Isn't a permit the one where you're supposed to have an adult in the car too?" Henry asked nervously.
Calla lies back down in her bed. "Yeah, but don't worry, Taylor's only backed into one tree."