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"Would you like something to eat?" she asked impulsively, still worried about the way Bennett looked,

"What have you got?" Bennett Scott asked.

"How about some chicken noodle soup for you and Harper? It's only Campbell's, but it might take the edge off the chill." She looked over. "Are you hungry?"

"Sure." Bennett was looking down at Harper. "We haven't had anything to eat..."

Nest put on a can of chicken noodle soup, made some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and peeled an orange. She didn't take any for herself, which was just as well. Harper and Bennett ate everything.

As she watched them eating, Nest found herself recalling how long it had been since she had seen Bennett. Bennett had lived with her for almost two years while her alcoholic mother drifted in and out of rehab facilities and struggled to get her life together. Fifteen years ago, when Nest was fourteen, Enid Scott's boyfriend had beaten her oldest boy, Nest's close friend Jared, so badly he had almost died. The result was a court action that stripped Enid of her children and put them in foster homes. Old Bob was still alive then, and Nest had begged him to bring little Bennett, who was only five, home to live with them. Old Bob, perhaps remembering Gran's promise to Enid to do what she could for her, applied for temporary custody of the little girl, and the court agreed to give it to him.

It was a hard time in everyone's life. Nest and Bennett had gone through a traumatic and life-altering experience over a Fourth of July weekend that saw John Ross come and go from Hopewell like a one-man wrecking crew. Gran was dead. Enid was in recovery. All of the Scott children were in separate homes. Something of what they had survived brought them closer together. They became like sisters in the weeks and months that followed, and Nest remembered even now how happy Bennett had been living with her.

But eventually Enid returned, sufficiently dried out and stable to reclaim her children from their foster homes. It was a wrenching ordeal for both Bennett and Nest, and Old Bob even asked Enid to reconsider moving Bennett back until she was older. But Enid was determined to reunite her family, and it was hard to blame a mother for wanting that. Bennett went home with the others, and after a year's probation, Enid was allowed to move the children out of state to a small town in Indiana where a handful of Enid's relatives lived.

There were letters from Bennett at first, but she was only nine, and nine-year-olds don't make it a point to write without encouragement. After a time, the letters stopped coming. Nest continued to write on her own, then tried calling. She found out that Enid was back in detox and the children were living with relatives. She began getting cards from Bennett again. Then the cards stopped for good.

When Old Bob died, Nest lost all track of Bennett Scott. Her own life was consumed with training for the Olympics and the demands of college. The relationship, like so many in her life, just drifted away.

Nest cleared the dishes from in front of Bennett and Harper. The little girl had fallen asleep in her mother's lap, moppet's head buried in a deep crease in the leather jacket. Nest motioned for Bennett to pick Harper up and led the way to one of the spare bedrooms in back. Together, they deposited Harper on the king-size bed, slipped off her shoes and parka, covered her with a blanket, and tiptoed out the door.

"I'll make us some tea," she advised, placing Bennett back at the kitchen table.

As she boiled water and fished about in the cupboard for some herbal tea bags, she wondered what had happened to Bennett Scott in those ten years gone. Nothing good, she suspected; very little remained of the child Bennett had been when she lived in Hopewell. She looked used and worn and hard. The tattoos and piercings suggested things Nest would rather not think about.

But maybe she was being small-minded and jumping to conclusions; she brushed the thoughts away angrily.

"Is Harper's father traveling with you?" she asked, handing Bennett a cup of the tea and sitting down across from her.

Bennett shook her head. "It's just Harper and me."

"Are you meeting him for Christmas?"

"Not unless they decide to let him out of the pen."

Nest stared.

"Sorry, Nest, that's a lie." Bennett looked away, shaking her head. "I tell it all the time. I tell it so often, I get to believing it. Bobby thinks he's the father 'cause I told him so once when I needed money. But he isn't. I don't know who Harper's father is."

The old clock in the hallway ticked in the ensuing silence. Nest sighed wearily. "Why didn't you write me to come for you, Bennett?" she said finally. "I would have."

Bennett nodded. "I know that. You were my big sister, Nest. You were the only one who cared about me, except for Jared. He ran off as soon as he turned sixteen. I haven't seen him since. I should have called you when I had the chance. But I wasn't sure. I just wasn't. Big Momma kept telling me that everything was going to be all right, even after she started drinking again and bringing home trash from the bars. And I kept right on believing, because I wanted it to be true."

She put her teacup down and stared out the window. "She's dead, you know. Drank herself to death, finally. Five years ago. Pneumonia, they said, but I heard the doctor tell Uncle Timmy that every organ in her body was ruined from her drinking.

"So I did what Jared did. I ran away from home. I lived on the streets, in the parks, on beaches, anywhere I could. I grew up real fast. You can't imagine, Nest. Or if you can, you don't want to. I was alone and scared all the time. The people I was with did things to me you wouldn't do to a dog. I was so hungry I ate out of garbage cans. I was sick a lot. Several times I was in hospitals, then farmed out to foster homes. I always ran away."

"But not here," Nest said quietly.

Bennett Scott blew out a short breath and laughed. "You got a cigarette, Nest?" Nest shook her head. Bennett nodded. "Didn't think so. World champion runner like you wouldn't smoke, would you? Bet you don't drink, either?"

"Nope."

"Do any drugs?"

"Why didn't you come here, Bennett?"

Bennett stretched, then slipped out of her leather jacket. She was wearing a sleeveless cotton sweater that hugged her body and retained almost no warmth. Nest got up, took the throw from behind the couch, walked over, and placed it over her shoulders. Bennett pulled it around her without a word, staring down at her teacup on the table.

"I've done a lot of drugs," she said after a minute, still not looking up. She sipped at the tea. "I've done just about every drug you could name and a few besides. For a while I was doing them all at once sometimes, just to get away from myself and my crappy life. But the high never lasts; you always come down again, and there you are, the old you, and nothing's changed."

She looked up now. "I was sixteen when I was doing all of it at once, but I started a lot earlier." She shook her head slowly. "That's why I didn't call you or write you or try to come see you. I didn't want you to see me like that. I didn't want you to know what I'd become. My life was ..." She shrugged.

"It wouldn't have mattered to me, you know," Nest said.

Bennett shook her head reprovingly. "Pay attention, Nest. I know it wouldn't have mattered to you. But it would have mattered to me. That's the whole point." She shivered inside the throw, her slim body hunching down and tightening into stillness. "When I got pregnant with Harper, I tried to stop using. I couldn't do it. I wanted to stop, I wanted it bad. I knew what my using might do to her, but I couldn't help myself. I tried a couple of programs, but they didn't work out. Nothing worked."