Jeanine

She looked as though she was no more than fifteen years old, and that was being particularly generous. Ace bent down on one knee to better see in her eyes. She was definitely not a child but her short height might have fooled any random passerby. It was clear this girl had never been properly taken care of.

“What’s your name?” The girl didn’t speak. Instead, she made a motion as if to write. Understanding her meaning, Ace felt around the pockets of his coat and produced a pen. He held out his hand to act as her paper and she wrote her name on his palm, her script not the childlike print he had expected but a delicate and flowing script. He turned his hand and read the name there.

Jeanine.

Ace smiled and looked back into the girl’s face. “That’s a beautiful name, Jeanine. Do you have a last name?” She motioned again for his hand and wrote the name Taylor in the same beautiful script. Ace nodded.

“Where are your parents?” he asked carefully.

Dead, she wrote.

He could do no more than nod again. Such a young girl should surely have someone to look after her and yet here she was, on her own and not faring so badly. Her clothes were worn, but they were sturdy and clean; her stature was small and thin but her eyes were brighter than most he’d seen. She had life in her. She was determined to press on.

Ace’s brow furrowed as another question came to his mind. He studied the girl for a minute, then asked, “Why can’t you speak?” At this the girl’s face drooped slightly and she shook her head from side to side. Ace kept his eyes on her face and angled his body to look in her eyes; he placed his fingers gently under her chin and brought her face upward so that he might look at her fully. He waited for her to answer. It took several minutes but the girl finally reached for his hand, aiming the pen and carefully penning three words. When she had finished, she looked at what she had written with resignation before letting Ace’s hand fall out of her own. Ace slowly dropped his eyes from her face and let them brush across the blue words written on his palm, his eyes widening slightly as he took in the full depth of their meaning.

Tongue cut out.