We sat against that wall for awhile. At some point my mind kicked back into gear. My clothes were still damp from my run across Brooklyn. She was obviously tired and frail, and the emotions of the day had drained her. She was shivering. I pulled a blanket off the bed and wrapped it around us as she continued to cry into my shoulder. My arm around her registered that she was thin-not somewhat slender as before, but desperately thin. I wondered how much she had been eating and it occurred to me that I had no idea what she had been doing since leaving that sicko's apartment. How had she ended up here?
It was becoming obvious that it would take time to fill in the gaps-the details of what had happened in the months since I had last seen her. It was also obvious that her emotional healing-and mine-would take time. I would need to get her settled back in over in Brooklyn, and I doubted she had ever had time to process and properly mourn her father. Then the thought occurred to me that we would need to go after the bastard, and I began considering my options. I could go after him directly, but somehow Mr. Donovan's face came to mind. It would be slow, difficult, and not painful enough, but if I was going to work for the system, I would have to believe in it. Revenge could come later. My mind moved toward more practical details as Katja, not asleep but vacantly cuddled into my shoulder, stared into space. That had me worried, too. In the years I had known her, she had never been vacant. But I had pushed enough today, and I knew she was physically, emotionally, and mentally exhausted. I settled in to wait, contenting myself with the feel of her tucked into my shoulder.
"So now what?" she eventually asked, sounding a bit tentative. I voiced my thoughts about heading home. "Oh," was all she said, and I could hear the wheels turning. That was a good sign. "I don't have any money," she said, and again her voice was tinged with nervousness and a bit of confusion.
"Well, actually you do have some money at the lodging house, but that's hardly important," I said, dismissing the matter. "What's important is that you stay where we can look after you. You aren't leaving my sight any time soon." I meant forever, but that sounded like a bit much at that moment. My stomach growled, reminding me that I had eaten practically nothing that day and that she was likely even hungrier.
"Actually, I was thinking maybe we should get some food and arrange lodging for the night. I'll pay for the room here for you, and then I can head over to the Manhattan newsboys' lodging house for the night myself. But dinner first." I had no intention of spending the night anywhere but right outside her room. I meant it about not leaving my sight. No way I was leaving her in here. Ms. Mina's may attract a classier clientele than the rough and ready dock workers at Ms. Cara's, but these were still johns, and I didn't trust them. But I didn't tell her that.
As we headed out, I spotted Emma not yet with a customer for the evening. I went over to her.
"Thanks for everything. She'll be staying the night here and going home with me tomorrow. I'll pay for the room," I added. "Oh, and we'll be borrowing a cloak. I am assuming you ladies are in for the night now that business is picking up?" Emma grinned and nodded.
"Sure, doll. Do what you gotta do. I'll tell Mina," she grinned at me, and I nodded my thanks before heading back to Cat.
It was still gloomy and rainy outside, but it felt like the most beautiful day to me. I had Katja at my side, and I could make things right. She was obviously exhausted, though, and I concentrated on finding an appropriate place to eat. If, in fact, she had been starving lately, the wrong foods might make her sick. I've seen it often enough. I had to be careful and selected a small restaurant with vegetable stew. I was able to gather, from what limited conversation we had, that she had wandered around Manhattan with virtually no food for almost the last two weeks. Well, that explained a lot. It was obvious her health had suffered, and I determined that she would never go hungry again as long as I lived.
When we returned to Ms. Mina's, some of the girls were downstairs with customers. I hung up her cloak and my jacket and returned with her to her room before turning to go-I didn't need one of the men in the lobby thinking she was available and following her to her room. I would sneak out the side, run a quick errand on Duane Street, and return to sleep outside her door.
"Goodnight, Darlin," I said, reluctantly releasing the hand I had been holding and turning to leave.
"Please stay," she said. She looked so small and frightened in the middle of that room that I would have done anything she asked-and sleeping in that armchair wasn't too difficult a request to grant given my plans. I nodded.
"Go ahead and get settled. I'll join you in a few minutes," I said, leaving her to wash up. I sprinted out the side and over to the Manhattan lodging house. I needed to run my errand. I ran into Blink almost immediately. Good.
"Blink," I said, and he looked up in surprise. I can understand that; I don't usually come all the way over here unannounced.
"Spot!" he said in surprise, and I gestured for him to be quiet. One of the advantages of my reputation is my ability to command silence and get what I want.
"I need someone to go over to Poplar and pick up Cat's cloak from my room," I said. "Tell my boys I've found Katja and that we'll be back in Brooklyn tomorrow. There's a dime in it for the person who delivers the cloak to Ms. Mina's by 11. I'll leave the dime with the bartender. Got it?" I asked. A dime is a big payment for the task, but I wanted it done quickly.
"I'm on it, Spot," Blink said, rising. I nodded my thanks, and I turned to hightail it back to Ms. Mina's. "Spot," Blink called before I left, and I looked back at him. "Thank God you found her," he said simply. I nodded again, then bolted back to Ms. Mina's, giving the bartender a dime and a quick explanation before heading up to Katja. She was just nestled into the bed when I arrived. I headed into the washroom to clean up, then moved toward the armchair.
"Please stay with me," she said softly, and I glanced at her. Did she mean in the bed?
"Are you sure? I don't want to scare you," I said, and I meant it. I didn't need her panicking in the middle of the night and disturbing the clients and girls. She smiled nervously at me.
"I'll be okay," she said, moving to give me space in the large bed. I laid down beside her, but I didn't touch her-at least not until she nestled into the crook of my shoulder again. It felt so right to have her with me, and for the first time in months, I slept soundly.