After Sawyer was sure that Katie was asleep, he left the bedroom to get his backpack. He hadn't finished all of his homework from the night before, and had been counting on the study hall to get it done.

Sixth grade had been pretty easy so far. He and Katie had gone to live with Juliet and Jack towards the middle of May. They had to transfer to other schools, but since the year was practically over, his new parents decided he could redo sixth grade and Katie could start in first grade. The only real problem with that arrangement meant that the two wouldn't be in the same building. Katie would be in Elementary School, and Sawyer would attend Middle School. But this would have been true even if Sawyer had fought to move to seventh grade.

Most of the stuff was review. He hadn't been a great student, but his grades had been good enough to pass. Now, practically without trying, Sawyer was getting mostly B's and, occasionally, a couple of A's. Paying attention in class and doing the homework let him get away with not studying much for tests. Truth be told, he mostly rushed through his homework and didn't always pay attention in class. But he looked like he was working reasonably hard, and his grades were fine, so neither his teachers nor his parents complained.

Sometimes, Sawyer slacked off with the homework. They'd been getting more lately, with the warning that they'd have to take final exams for the first time in June. Sawyer never spent more than an hour on his work, and this meant he was relying more on his daily study hall period to get the rest finished.

Except today, he wouldn't have that time to work. Not that it mattered—Mrs. Watson rarely did more than check to see if students did the science homework, and Mr. Kinsberg said you didn't have to finish all of the math problems as long as you had done most of them, and all of those correctly. But he did have one chapter to read for English, and he was supposed to make a "life timeline" for history. This meant picking three historical events that happened while he was alive, and writing a paragraph for each about why they mattered.

It was a dumb assignment. Who cared about the election of the president from three years ago? The only interesting things were the wars, but it wasn't like Sawyer had parents who fought in them. They didn't make a big difference in his normal life. He figured he'd do that assignment last.

Ten minutes later, Sawyer reappeared in Katie's room with his books opened to the right pages. She had a small desk (pink) and chair (the princess kind), so he set the school materials down and started to read. Every so often, he cast a glance at Katie, but she was still sleeping.

Poor kid. She'd been sick once at the foster home, earlier that fall. Low fever, sore throat, and shook like crazy. It was also when some of her worse nightmares had appeared. Sawyer would hear her scream stuff like, "No, don't touch me!" He'd known that she was at the foster home because at least one of her parents hit her, but this seemed to go deeper. He'd heard the workers say that Katie might have forgotten some things. Maybe the fever brought it back.

He didn't ask her about it because he didn't feel like it was any of his business. If Katie wanted to talk about it, she'd bring it up. She'd spoken to him about personal stuff before. But either she forgot that she remembered or it had been some kind of a nightmare.

Now, Sawyer wondered if the second fever would bring on the same thing again. He hoped that their parents wouldn't be the ones to hear it. They might think Katie was more damaged than they had known. Might want to send her back.

If they did, he'd go too. Of course. It was up to him to protect Katie.

No one had ever told this to him, but it seemed to be implied. Why else would the foster workers try to encourage their friendship? Sawyer hadn't been able to protect his mom from his dad. He had to protect Katie, partly as a way to make up for it, but mostly because he cared about her and wouldn't let anything happen to her. He'd go where she'd go.

Right now, though, Katie was sleeping pretty soundly. Her head poked out of the blankets and he could hear her breathing, a mix between regular breaths and slightly ragged ones. When she had spoken earlier, her nose sounded stuffy. Maybe this was just a bug. Not like before. Maybe she'd be okay by the next day.

They had wanted to build a tree house over the weekend, and their dad had promised to go to Home Depot and get the tools. Had said he'd help them, if they wanted.

About an hour passed before Katie woke up. Sawyer, finished with the reading and onto the history assignment, was at her side in a matter of seconds.

"You okay, freckles?" he asked, smoothing back her hair.

She made a pitiful face, eyes squinted like she was trying to see something through bright light.

"It hurts," she whined. "Can I have some juice?"

"Sure thing, freckles," he promised, planting a kiss on her forehead before leaving the room.

On his way out, he heard Katie say crossly, "That won't make it any better!"

He made a scoffing sound. Katie's sarcasm came out especially loudly when she was tired, hungry, or (apparently) not feeling well.

Juliet and Jack kept a lot of food in the house. Much more than Sawyer's grandparents, whose diet consisted mostly of plain, unsalted food. Snacks were rare, except on the occasion that Sawyer's grandfather brought home a pint of pistachio ice cream from the store. Juliet and Jack either had major sweet teeth, or heard that kids liked sweets before they adopted Sawyer and Katie. A lot of the snacks went unopened, and were probably stale by now.

He found four different types of juice in the refrigerator. Two kinds of orange juice—one with pulp and one without pulp. At least a gallon of apple juice, three quarters full. Grape juice, half empty. Cranberry juice, too, but the label covered most of it so Sawyer couldn't see how much was left. Katie would probably want grape juice or apple juice. He took two glasses from the high cabinets and filled each one with its own drink. Then, he found a tray under one of the stove cabinets and placed them on it. Got some paper plates from another cabinet. Thinking that Katie might be hungry, he rummaged around the snack drawers for crackers. Took an apple from the fruit bowl. Though wasn't apple juice with an apple kind of overkill?

Sawyer settled on graham crackers and saltines. Katie was supposed to gargle with salt water, so the salt on the crackers had to count for something.

Carrying all this up took some work. Mostly because the glasses were the heaviest parts, and threw him off balance. He made it to Katie's room without spilling anything, and popped one of the saltines into his mouth before she could see it. She rolled over in bed.

"Got your food," said Sawyer.

Katie gingerly placed the tray in her lap and took a sip of juice. "Thanks."

Sawyer wasn't sure what else to do. He'd never taken care of Katie when she was sick. Or anyone, for that matter. He sat down, awkwardly, in the pink oversized chair beside her bed. Katie continued drinking the juice and nibbling on the food. When she'd eaten as much as she wanted, Sawyer took the tray for her and put it on the table. He'd clean it up later.

"Feeling better?" he asked.

Katie shrugged and yawned. "A little."

"You're still tired?" Sawyer couldn't help but ask.

"I couldn't sleep last night," Katie explained.

"'Cause you were sick?"

"And the nightmares."

Ohh. That explained it. Well, kind of.

"Want to talk about it?" Sawyer asked in what he hoped was his "gentle voice".

Katie squirmed. "I know he was mean to me and hit me. I don't want to remember the rest, and I usually don't, but it comes out in bad dreams."

Sawyer moved from the chair to her bed. Instantly, she was curled up against him. "What do you remember when you're dreaming about him, freckles?"

"He tries to hurt me. Not just hit me," Katie whispered. "I wake up before he does." She paused for a minute, then added, "I can feel him in my dreams. He's there."

Sawyer put an arm around her shoulder and gave her a squeeze. She huddled closer into his chest. He let her.

"He's not here now, Katie. He's in jail. You're safe," he tried to reassure.

"I hate dreaming about him," Katie replied, her voice muffled by Sawyer's shirt.

Sawyer sighed. He knew that Jack and Juliet had been talking about family therapy. Or just sending him and Katie off to it. From what he could tell, it meant talking to a stranger for an hour every week or so. Apparently, this was supposed to help you feel better.

It sounded dumb to Sawyer. Why would he go to a stranger and tell him (or her) his problems?

But what was he supposed to say to Katie? From what he definitely knew, her father (or stepfather) had hit her and her mom. On numerous occasions. Had also, probably, made her do other stuff she didn't want to do.

Sawyer knew about the birds and the bees. His uncle had given him "The Talk" shortly after his grandparents died. Said that nine was young to know, but he would rather James get it from a semi responsible adult than kids who were just repeating rumors. It was like he had known that the tumor was going to make it so that he wouldn't live very long.

Based on the way Katie had screamed, and how she forgot a lot of what she thought had happened, and the talk that went on among the staff at Safe Place, her stepfather had either made her have sex with him or had gone pretty close. His uncle had said that sex was supposed to be between two adults who were old enough to know what could happen (it was, after all, how babies were formed, but a baby didn't form whenever two people had sex) and who wanted to be together for the rest of their lives.

It wasn't supposed to be between a seven year old girl and her stepfather. That was beyond gross—that was wrong. Worse, Katie relived it in her nightmares. Because the nightmares weren't just dreams—they were kind of memories of something that had already happened. But they were dreams in the sense that you had the thoughts when you were asleep, and what you dreamed was rarely true in real life.

She had those dreams at least once a week.

Sawyer had dreamed he was a bear enough times to know that dreams weren't totally accurate.

Still, it seemed like something he should tell Juliet and Jack. Because he knew that Katie wouldn't. Maybe she was too scared. Thought that they'd send her back. They only knew the very basics of her home situation before the foster home. Knew almost nothing about Sawyer's, and he intended to keep it that way.

He couldn't ask Katie directly, because if she said no, he wouldn't be able to give the excuse that he didn't know. She'd hate him. Katie had been angry at Sawyer before, had held grudges. Once, she'd gone for over a week without speaking to him. He couldn't even remember what the argument had been about. Or how it had gotten resolved. Just the week with Katie glaring at him, refusing to come near him. Until…had she just gotten tired of being mad?

Sawyer didn't know. He did know that it wasn't an experience he wanted to repeat. He wasn't afraid of Katie. No way. He just didn't want to lose her.

He picked up one of Katie's favorite books—a huge collection of fairy tales. Started to read to her. Was still reading when Juliet got back.

Juliet greeted him with a smile and a long hug. "Thank you, honey," she whispered. "I'll take it from here. You don't want to miss your bus."

He nodded, disengaging himself from Juliet's arms. He didn't mind her affection. He just wasn't used to it. She usually saved it for Katie. Like Sawyer did. As though getting hugs from a new mom would take away what he had from his old one.

The rest of the day went quickly, since Sawyer had missed the first half of it. He turned in his homework, paid attention in class, and took notes as needed. When the day ended, he knew he'd have a fair amount of homework this weekend, but that was nothing new. No study hall on Monday.

Katie and Juliet were nestled together, the book of fairy tales open by her bed. Katie looked so peaceful. She usually did when she was sleeping. He guessed that she wasn't having any more nightmares about her idiot stepdad. Or her useless once mother.

He tugged on Juliet's sleeve. "Mom."

She opened her eyes, stretched, and smiled. "Home already, hon? That was fast."

"How's she doing?"

"Better," Juliet replied, placing a hand on Katie's head. "I think she'll be fine in another day or so. She ate almost all the soup I made her." She smiled down at Katie, who was starting to snore.

Juliet stood up. "You hungry? I can fix you a snack."

Sawyer nodded. "Okay."

Ten minutes later, over a plate of oatmeal raisin cookies and a tall glass of milk, Juliet spoke again.

"How was school?"

Sawyer shrugged, swallowing the piece of cookie he'd been chewing. "It's okay."

"No one minded that you missed the morning part, did they?"

He shook his head. "They were okay."

She nodded again, went over to the fruit bowl, and took out an apple. "Eat this too, all right? It's good for you."

She sat down next to him. Either Sawyer was in some kind of trouble, or his mom was trying to spend quality time with him. Maybe she felt bad that Katie had taken it earlier. Even though it wasn't her fault that she was sick.

Sawyer took a bite of the apple.

"Anything on your mind?" Juliet pressed, speaking in that calm voice she used when she wanted to be reassuring.

"I think…" He paused. Did he really want to do this? Well, no, he didn't want to, but he thought that he had to. "I think that Katie remembers stuff that she forgot." At Juliet's blank look, he clarified, "With what happened with her old parents."

Juliet hadn't been given many details. Mostly because the staff didn't know much for certain. There were marks on Katie's back and arms, so it was easy to see that she'd been beaten. But that was all the foster people knew for sure. The rest was speculation.

Speculation that they did not reveal to potential adoptive parents because it was just that.

But Sawyer had gotten to know Katie pretty well, and she didn't always act like other kids he knew who had been beaten. There was something else. And after the nightmares, it seemed fairly clear that her stepfather had done more than just hit her.

"What do you mean, James?" asked Juliet in her calm, level headed voice.

It was all Sawyer could do not to squirm. Juliet reached out and placed one of her hands over his.

"It's okay, James. Tell me what you think. I won't get mad if you're wrong."

He removed his hand hastily. "I think Katie's stepdad tried to touch her."

Juliet sighed. "The people at the foster home told me they thought this may have happened. Did Katie tell you?"

Sawyer shook his head. "No. I think she doesn't remember most of the time. But she gets bad dreams about him."

Juliet squeezed Sawyer's shoulders. "Thanks for telling me."

"You're not gonna send her back, are you?"

Juliet's eyebrows shot up. "No, of course not. But we may want to get her professional help." At Sawyer's confused expression, she added, "Therapy."

"She won't want to go."

Juliet raised her eyebrows again. "I know," she replied quietly. "I'm going to check on her. Why don't you get started on your homework? I'll be in later to check it over."

Sawyer left the room, wondering if he had just made things worse.