Chapter 3- New Life and Cayden's Discovery
A/N: This chapter deals with how Anna finds her way to Oliver Queen and how Cayden gets the footage that shows Oliver "Killing" Owen.
Anna felt her insides turn. It had been days since she had last eaten and she had tapped out the limit on her mom's and stepfather's credit cards. It had been four months since Owen, her mother, and Jim had been killed. Anna had refused to go back to the house, taking her chances on the streets and at the homeless shelters that Star City was famous for. Word on the streets was that A.R.G.U.S. was looking for a girl named Anna Post, but nobody was able to figure that the girl dressed like a hobo and a ratty fedora was her. Apparently the clothes she had found in some dumpster worked perfectly in hiding her from view. Also nobody on the streets or in the shelters had asked her name. Smelling as bad as she did from not showering recently, Anna couldn't really blame no one for not wanting to be near her.
Anna looked out at the bustling crowd. The mayor, Oliver Queen, was supposed to be giving a speech today, an act that Anna felt was driving her to this sin. Stealing was wrong; Sunday school when she was five had told her that. She wondered if she could beg from people in the crowd. Begging had to be better than stealing Oliver Queen's wallet. Anna felt her stomach growl unmercifully. It was the type of hunger that was really painful. Anna had never been this hungry in her life. Even when times were tight she had never been without food. The alimony her mother had received from Cayden and later Jim's paychecks and Owen's job at the grocery store had always provided food.
Anna eyed a huge buffet table, her mouth watering at the huge platter of fried chicken and a big bowl of mashed potatoes with gravy. It looked like either Kentucky Fried Chicken, Popeye's, or Bojangles had supplied the food for this feast. The sight of all this food and not being able to touch it made her so miserable, tears came to her eyes. "Are you all right, little girl?" A man of average height in a suit asked. The man looked as if he had a day's growth of beard, but no hair. He had a pleasant look to his face. Of course the thing that terrified her worse was the badge clipped to his belt. A police officer was the last thing she needed right now.
Anna started to back away, glad the fedora shaded the fear that she was sure that was in her eyes. "Hey, it's all right. I'm not gonna hurt you. My name is Quentin Lance. I'm a detective. I help people. What's your name?" Quentin asked.
"Anna. Anna James," Anna said with a brief falter in her voice. It wasn't completely a lie as "James" was her father's last name and, by rights, it should have been hers. If this detective worked for A.R.G.U.S. there was no way Anna was gonna say her name was "Post."
"That's a pretty name. Are you hungry?" Quentin asked, his air that of a man who was used to talking to kids. He must have had kids of his own.
"Yes, Sir, but isn't it the mayor's?" Anna asked timidly.
"It is, but I know Oliver Queen. He won't mind if you want to eat. I'll even fix you a plate," Quentin offered.
"Why are you being so kind to me? I'm nobody," Anna asked.
"I have daughters. You look no older than fifteen. I remember when my girls were that age," Quentin said with a smile. Anna felt tears rush to her eyes as Quentin fixed her a plate and then handed it to her. Anna felt her insides quake and churn at the pile of food. The last time she had had this much food was when Jim had taken them out for a buffet after church on the Sunday before her family had been killed. Saying a silent prayer of thanksgiving Anna tore into the chicken, never minding that she looked like a barbarian, eating her first meal ever.
"When was the last time you ate, Anna?" Quentin asked when the ravenous eating slowed and he had filled her plate again.
"Four days, I think?" Anna asked, making the statement a question.
"Four days?! Where are your parents?" Quentin asked. Anna felt nervous about that question. She would tell the truth; just not the whole truth.
"They're dead and I don't know where my dad is," Anna said, fighting the tears.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Look, can you stay here? I want to talk to Oliver about you. He's been wanting to help a kid stay off the streets. You don't look as if you like your life and if you are willing to try it, would you want to?" Quentin asked.
"I guess so," Anna said as Quentin walked away and up to Oliver Queen, who wore an expensive suit and tie. Anna had no clue that this was the start of a new life for her.
Anna followed Oliver and a huge man, that Quentin had introduced as John Diggle, into a huge mansion. Anna's eyes nearly popped out of her head. It screamed that someone rich lived here. "So, what do you think?" Mr. Diggle asked, his tone revealing another man who knew how to talk to kids.
"It's nice. I think you could fit my stepfather's townhouse into this place," Anna said, looking around.
"Would you like to see your room?" Oliver asked.
"Yeah, sure," Anna said, following Oliver to a bedroom the size of a landing field. Anna whistled under her breath. It was hard to think that anyone could be comfortable in this room, but the cheery yellow wallpaper made it comfortable.
"This okay?" Oliver asked.
Anna removed her fedora and scratched her dirty brown hair. "It's perfect," Anna said with an awed smile.
"I think you need a shower. I'm gonna call my sister, Thea and my girlfriend, Felicity and we'll see about getting you some clothes. What size do you wear so I can tell them?" Oliver asked.
"Uh, a size 8, I think," Anna said. Her mom said that usually guys don't ask your weight or size, but Anna figured that if Oliver's girlfriend and sister were willing to buy her clothes, she might as well humor them.
"Um, what do you like for hobbies?" Mr. Diggle asked, reminding Anna of his presence.
"I read a lot," Anna said.
"What do you read?" Oliver asked.
"History, romance, and science fiction," Anna said.
"What kind of romance?" Mr. Diggle asked.
"Christian romances," Anna said. (A/N: That is the only romances I read. People usually put a piece of themselves in every character. Anna and every character I write is like me when it comes to books and book choices.)
"What kind of history?" Oliver asked.
"I like American history only up to the Civil War, but I prefer British, French, Russian, and Holocaust history," Anna said..
"What kind of science fiction?" Diggle asked.
"Star Wars." Is there any other kind?" Anna asked dryly.
"I guess not. Any other hobbies?" Oliver asked just as dryly.
"I like music and movies," Anna said.
"Okay. I'm going out. I'll tell Raisa, my cook, to give you some of Thea's old clothes for when you get out of the shower. You look about the same height as she was when she was 14 or 15. Raisa usually puts clothes we have outgrown up in the attic. Her underclothes and pajamas should work until Felicity and Thea get here with your clothes," Oliver said.
Okay. Thank you, Mr. Queen," Anna said in a small voice.
"Hey, my name is Oliver. Some people call me Ollie. Mr. Queen makes me think you are talking about my dad," Oliver said with a grin.
Anna gave a brief smile as he and Diggle left. Anna sat down on the soft bed and bounced slightly. The bed was very comfortable. It was one of those beds called a waterbed. If her bed would be like this Anna could get used to this. Before Anna knew what was happening, she was fast asleep on the bed, still in her ratty street clothes.
Cayden sat morosely in his small cell, seated to a chair, his hands handcuffed. In the four months since Owen, Sylvia, and Jim had been killed Cayden had lost all enthusiasm for ever leaving this place. His enthusiasm had waned even more when the A.R.G.U.S. agents had returned fruitless in their search for Anna. Cayden's heart broke at the thought of his daughter wandering the streets without her father's comfort to soothe her own possibly broken heart. When she was three and she had fallen and skinned her knees, it was so easy for him to leave his computer, scoop his girl into his arms and have her sit on his lap, burrowing her small head into his chest as she cried huge crocodile tears. Cayden would wrap his arms around her, kiss the top of her head and tear-streaked face and wipe her face with a linen handkerchief.
"Oh, Anna, where are you? Do you still know that Daddy loves you?" Cayden whispered softly, the tears falling unchecked down his face.
Cayden felt his insides twist as the door to the container squeaked open. The agent who had arrested him came back every day at this time. The way Cayden figured it, the man must have thought Cayden was broken and crushed since hearing about Owen being killed and Anna missing. The man proved to be more sympathetic and had told Cayden he knew how he felt since he had children of his own. "Hello, Cayden," the agent said.
"Have you found my girl?" Cayden asked as he had every day for the last four months.
"We came close to finding her. She frequents a soup kitchen. The people who run it have supplied information that a fifteen-year-old girl matching Anna's description comes there once a week to eat and take a shower. She wears clothes that she found in some dumpster and a fedora. The owners said she always looks as if she's a scared rabbit about to bolt. She always looks over her shoulder. Cayden, she was at a speech that Oliver Queen was giving. I think he took her home with him. He said that he wanted to get some kid off the streets. Your daughter is a good choice," the agent said.
"I see. What are you doing?" Cayden asked surprised as the agent unlocked the handcuffs around his wrists.
"My boss has determined that you are a model prisoner, so he has told me to unlock your handcuffs," the agent said.
"Thank you," Cayden said.
"You're welcome. Oh, and my boss has said you can have mail delivered. This came for you this morning," the agent said, handing Cayden a package with his name on it and leaving the container, flipping on a light that flooded the container as he closed the door.
Cayden tore open the package. It was some kind of computer. Cayden flipped open the computer and a surveillance camera showed him Owen and the Green Arrow. Cayden's grief turned to anger as he saw the Green Arrow with his bow and arrow and the arrow killing Owen.