[i]“Cass, you never tell ‘em anything that might get you into trouble. They’ll tell ya that you won’t get punished and that it’ll all be okay, but it never is. They just tell ya that so that you admit everything. Then they got ya and there ain’t nothing you can do about it. If you keep your lips shut and don’t tell ‘em nothin’, then they can’t punish ya. Well, they can, but it’s not as bad cause they can’t be positive you did it.”

“But what if it was an accident?”

“They’ll punish you anyways.”[/i]

The memory came unbidden to her, and she visibly flinched when the man in front of her leaned close and started asking questions. Cassidee was a college girl, well-educated even if it was only art school that she’d attended. It wasn’t common knowledge that she had once been in foster care, or that she had grown up in the ghetto where parents kept children for the checks they received in the mail every month. She had left that past behind when she’d been accepted to her first-choice and never thought about it again.

Now, though, she was forced to think back on those years and the lessons she’d learned. Here was a stranger, asking her about the bruise that was about as noticeable as the neon sign out front. She glanced at it, and another memory distracted her from the questions.

[i]He stood above her, towering, his face contorted with anger. His hands twitched, as if he meant to wrap them around her neck, and somehow she knew that’s exactly what he wanted to do. She’d gone too far this time. She’d known it when the words left her lips, known what would happen when they returned home. It was a comment about his being unemployed to his parents, barely noticed even, but embarrassing to him all the same. And if she ever embarrassed him…

“I told you to keep your mouth shut! God, you know that everything that comes out of you just makes you sound stupid! You’re just a pretty face who can take pretty pictures. Everyone knows that there’s nothing inside that mind of yours, so I don’t understand why you always insist on pretending like there is!” His hands clenched into fists as he spoke, and she lifted her own in hopes of protecting herself.

“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t… I didn’t realize how it would sound. I didn’t know better. I’m sorry. I won’t ever do it again. I don’t need to talk. I know I shouldn’t.” Her voice was pleading in a way that she hoped would let him forgive her, let her walk away from this. Her words only seemed to make him angrier though, and he grabbed her by the arms and held her against the wall, her toes barely touching the floor.[/i]

The image then became too much, and she found she had tears in her eyes. “How embarrassing,” she said and tried her hardest to smile. [i]Keep your mouth shut.[/i] It was her first and constant lesson. She would do no different here, with this stranger. “The bruise is nothing, no walls I promise. It’s Cassidee Johnson, by the way. I’m just here, traveling. I’d appreciate some food. I can pay you. And maybe you can point me in the direction of somewhere to stay?” Her eyes skated across his, in attempt to make eye contact, but soon they found themselves staring at the counter again.