“Sure,” Henry acquiesced. “I put Rocky in your room.”
“That’s fine,” Raven answered and headed into the kitchen. Rocky was a friendly dog but tended to jump on people and this girl was so small he’d surely knock her over.
Later that Evening
The girl sat on the couch, wrapped in blankets. She had finally stopped shivering and held a cup of warm cocoa in both hands. Slowly, she brought it to her lips and took a sip. The hot chocolate left a brown mustache and she wiped it on the back of her arm. Her eyes were large and dark and her skin was a pale bronze, like she would tan well in the summer. Her hair was a mass of curls and Raven had given her brush to work out the knots.
“My name is Liz,” she said in a small voice, sipping her cocoa again.
“Hi, Liz,” Raven said, keeping her voice calm. This was the first coherent sentence they’d gotten from her. She’d woken about an hour ago and huddled beneath the blanket until Henry coaxed her out with chocolate. “I’m Raven and this is my brother, Henry.” Raven gestured to her brother, sitting on the table with Rocky between his knees.
“What’s the dog’s name?” Liz asked shyly. She blinked rapidly and her knuckles were white, she was gripping her mug so tightly.
“This is Rocky,” Henry answered, matching Raven’s tone. “He’s a good dog. He won’t hurt you.”
Liz nodded twice in quick succession. “I had a dog.” She closed her eyes briefly and a single tear leaked out. When she opened them again her eyes shimmered with moisture. “Daddy got him at the shelter. He was a collie.”
Raven thought her heart would break, this girl was so sad and earnest. “What was his name, Liz?” she asked.
“P-pecko,” she responded with a hitch in her voice. “Daddy let me n-name him.” Her eyes grew wider, like large saucers. “A woman ate him.” The tears flowed from her eyes then, running in clear droplets down her face.
Raven scooted closer on the couch, wrapping her arm around the girl. “I’m so sorry.” Then after a pause she added. “Someone ate my cat too.”
The girl sniffled, making a visible effort to stop her tears. “W-what was his name?”
“Her name was Moon Pie,” Raven answered, gripped by a wave of grief. She pushed it aside, holding eye contact with the girl and smiling gently.
“Do you think you can eat some soup?” Henry asked.
Rocky sneezed and the girl smiled. He took a step toward her and Henry let him. The dog laid his head on the edge of the couch and Liz reached a tentative hand out to stroke him.
Liz seemed to consider his request for food then nodded. “I … I … think so,” she answered.
Raven rose from the couch. “I’ll reheat it,” she said, heading into the kitchen.
She heard Henry switch on the television — it only had two working channels now, cartoons and the history channel — and he spoke to Liz in a low voice. The girl answered and the dulcet drone of the history channel floated into the kitchen.
“Strange girl,” Raven whispered. She wondered again how she’d survived so long alone but didn’t want to ask just yet. Liz would tell them when she was ready.
Raven turned on the stove — the gas still worked, as did the electricity. The water too, though she knew it wouldn’t last. She poured chicken noodle soup into the pot and waited for it to boil.
Liz devoured the soup quickly and they sat there with her for a while, watching some program about the beginnings of life. Raven glanced at the girl during a commercial and saw that she was sound asleep, head on her chest with a thin line of drool slipping from her partially open mouth. The empty bowl sat on her lap.
Raven caught her brother’s eyes and gestured for him to follow her into the kitchen. He grabbed the bowl. Once in the kitchen, she set the coffee to percolate and sat at the table. Henry mirrored her with a heavy sigh.
“This changes our plans,” he spoke, voice quiet.
“I know,” Raven responded. “What should we do?”
Henry sighed and pursed his lips, thinking. “Well, we clearly can’t go spy on president muckety muck with a little girl in tow. It wouldn’t be safe for her.”
“No,” Raven answered. “It wouldn’t.”
They sat quietly for a while, letting the sound of the coffee percolator fill the kitchen with pleasantly familiar noises and smells. The girl’s breathing could be heard faintly from the other room accompanied by the slightly louder sound of Rocky’s snoring.
“Well,” Raven spoke. “We have enough supplies to last for the next month at least but that doesn’t help us in the long run. We still need to find other people.” The percolator had finished and Raven got up to fill their mugs.
“Black please,” Henry spoke scratching his chin. Raven added powdered milk and sugar to hers, not understanding why anyone would want to drink black coffee and brought both mugs back to the table.
Handing her brother his coffee, Raven sipped her milky ambrosia. “What about the girl’s family?” she asked.
“I don’t think she has any left,” Henry answered. “She mentioned that her father was dead and her mother left them years ago. She said something about her being taken
