Austin looked back at me, then walked over to the couches on the other side of the station. He leaned forward, trying to snatch pieces of the conversations.

I stared at the doctors. They certainly looked like doctors, but I just couldn’t get rid of the uneasiness they caused me.

Doctor Golden sat down beside me. “Hello there.” he said cheerfully. “How’s your day going?”

Hmm, let me think, I thought to myself. My sister got raped by our dad, and I’ve gotten quite a beating from him. Besides that, wow! Whoop-dee doo! My day’s going fantastic! How’s yours?

Of course, I didn’t say that out loud.

“Fine,” I stated. “How’s yours?”

Doctor Connor sat down next to Charlie. “Well, considering that we got called in on our break because a rotten human being was abusing his kids, I’d say that our day’s just gotten interesting.”

I wanted to punch this guy. I didn’t know why I was so angry at him. Maybe it was the fact that Connor sat a little too close to my sister. Maybe it was the fact that he stared at her a little too long. The guy was young, but not that young.

Doctor Golden seemed to sense my agitation. He laid a hand on my arm, and smiled at me. “Well, I think that I’m very lucky to be helping out you two. I’m glad that I get to help out children instead of adults.”

“Yes, well,” Doctor Conner said, rolling his eyes. “I want to help you guys out as fast as I can, so you kids can get back to living regular lives. Shall we run a couple tests?”

Without waiting for a response, Golden, who seemed to be the doctor helping me out, reached a hand to my forehead.

On instinct, I shrank back, expecting to be hit. But his gentle hand only rested on my forehead, feeling around. He frowned at my reaction.

“I take it you’ve been hit before, right?” he asked, the anger evident in his eyes.

Hit? I questioned in my mind. Oh, boy. You have no idea. Not just hit, my kind sir. Stabbed, knocked out, starved, locked in a dark closet. The usual.

I didn’t say that out loud either.

Doctor Golden interpreted my silence in his own way. “It’s alright, son.” he said, lowering his head to see eye to eye with me. “You can tell us anything. He won’t hurt you anymore. We specialize in treating abused children.”

I didn’t know why he said that last part, but It didn’t really improve my mood toward him.

He smiled, his question for me forgotten. He reached over into his black bag, pulling out a tube-like object. He clicked at button on the end of it, and a beam of bright light shot out from the other end.

“Mind if I check your eyes, son?” he said, shining the light in my left eye.

This guy doesn’t seem to take no for an answer,  I thought, wincing at the bright light. I could imagine my skull shattering under the strain Golden was putting on my eye.

He made a strangled noise in his throat as he peered into my eye. “Oh, son. There’s more trauma in your eyes than I’ve ever seen in my career.”

What the hell’s that supposed to mean? I flinched away from the light, blinking furiously. This guy seemed to inflict more pain than take it away.

“Mind if I check your pulse?”

And why would checking my pulse help me or you in any way? I didn’t say that out loud either.

Doctor Golden held two hands to the side of my throat, shifting position slightly. His hands were cold on my hot skin. He pulled his hand away, and caught sight of the red marks wrapping around my throat. He touched one gently.

“Where’d you get these, son?” he asked, frowning deeply. Charlie looked at what Golden was pointing at, and her face turned white.

Before either of us could say anything, the doors to the station banged open. All of us jumped and turned to see what was going on.

There stood six police officers in uniform with their hands hovering over their tasers.

The officers, without talking, walked over to us. Either they were pissed as hell, or they were doing a really good job trying to be intimidating.

Two guys walked over to Officer Reynolds, and they started whispering, casually glancing at me and Charlie occasionally.

One officer looked impressively angry. He dragged over a chair without stopping and sat down, leaning forward intently.

I scooted as bar back as I could on the couch.

“Hello, I’m Officer Jacobsen,” the policeman said in a business-like tone. “Mind if I ask you kids a few questions?”

My twin sister glanced at me, paler than salt. I nodded my head.

“I’ll have to ask you to leave, doctors,” Jacobsen said, frowning at Golden and Connor. The doctors hesitated visibly, then grabbed their bags, got up, and walked into a side door by Officer Reynold’s desk I hadn’t noticed before.

Charlie and I scooted closer together and held hands. I dimly noted that Charlie’s hands were cold and clammy, and her fingernails bit deep into the back of my hand. I didn’t like the expression on the cop’s face.

The cop pulled out a notebook and a pen. He took the cap off with his teeth and started chewing on it. He glanced back up at us, then his head disappeared behind notebook. The only sound in the station was the pen moving steadily back and forth across each line.

When he looked back up at us, I almost had a heart attack. He looked exactly like Henry.

Jacobsen went on as if he hadn’t noticed my expression, although I was certain he did. “So, you kids are victims of abuse?”

“Child abuse,” Charlie interjected suddenly, then seemed to panic and hurriedly looked down at her lap. “Sir.”

“Please, none of that, ‘sir’ talk, alright? We’re all equals.” Jacobsen said harshly, as if he were truly angry at Charlie for showing him respect.

Another officer folded his arms behind Jacobsen. “Tom,” he growled. “Time’s running low. Hurry or we’ll-”

“I know, I know.” Officer Jacobsen muttered, clearly frustrated with him. “Gimme a minute to talk to them, alright?”

The other officer rolled his eyes and walked away.

“As I was saying,” Jacobsen continued, turning back to us. “You kids are victims of child abuse. Do you have any proof to back up your claim?”

I could feel my eyes flash with anger. I frowned at the cop, then rolled up both of my sleeves, revealing red, long scars crossing over each other. “H-he does this to u-us with a kitchen knife.” I whispered, trying to control my stuttering.

Jacobsen raised an eyebrow curiously. “Do you have ‘em too?” he asked Charlie. She pulled up her sleeves, showing raw, chapped skin and bright white scars with red ones crossing over them.

Jacobsen scribbled furiously in his notepad for a couple minutes. “Can you show me any more physical proof?”

I exposed my neck. The deep white gouges were still fairly visible. “H-he tried to k-kill me by ch-choking me.”

His eyes widened. “He tried to kill you? When did this happen?”

“C-couple hours ago,” I muttered, glancing at Charlie.

Burke caught the look. “Did this young lady have anything to do with it?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

I could tell lying would do more harm than good.

“Sh-she ran when he st-started choking me, a-and she knocked h-h-him out with a rolling p-pin. Sir.”

Charlie scooted as close as she could to me, clutching at me as if they’d take her away from me this very moment. As far as I knew, she didn’t do anything wrong. She saved me from being strangled to death by our own father.

“Are you guys twins?” Jacobsen asked calmly, like he didn’t care what I just said.

I nodded, silent.

“And you stammer?”

I nodded again.

“Did you guys come here after you knocked him out?”

Charlie spoke up. “We went to the school first, sir. We didn’t know where the police station was, so we wanted to get a ride with a teacher or a friend.”

“And who did you come with, then?”

“A guy named Austin Jacobsen.”

The cop froze and looked up at us. “Austin, eh? He drove you? Where is he? Is he here right now?”

“Heya, pops.”

I leaned to the left so I could see past the form of the bulk police officer. There stood Austin, right behind the cop. He had a casual grin on his face, but it looked rather worried.

Jacobsen turned around. “I knew you’d find your way here eventually, son.”

Pops? Son?

Austin sat down on my left. “Guys, this is my dad. The police officer. Yeah.”

“Wait, he’s your dad?” Charlie cried.

“Uh, yeah. Why do you think I knew where the station was, huh? I used to come here all the time when I was little.”

I stared at him.

"What?" Austin shrugged.

“Sit down, son,” Officer Jacobsen said, gesturing to the couch. “I’d probably ground you for driving without your license, but I’m kinda busy here.”

He turned back to us. “So, kids. What’s your dad’s name?”

I had a feeling that he already knew, but he wanted to make sure. “H-Henry Anderson, sir.” I said, glancing at Austin as he sat down beside me.

Then, to my surprise, Officer Jacobsen dropped his notepad and pen with a sharp intake of breath. “Did you say, Henry Anderson?”

Charlie raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Why is he so important? First, it was Officer Reynolds, now it’s you? Why does everybody know his name?”

Officer Jacobsen sighed and put his head in his hands. “Kids, do you ever wonder why your mother ran away?”

I froze. How did he know that? How does he know mom left? “H-how do you know sh-she left us?” I said, more harshly than I intended.

“Your mom,” Jacobsen continued as if he hadn’t heard me. “Is dead.”

I shot up from the couch. “How the hell do you know that? Why are you talking like you knew her?” I pointed a finger at him. “How do you know Henry? How do you know our mom? And what do you mean, she’s dead?”

“Reeve,” Charlie whispered, barely audible. “Please, just listen to him.”

I frowned at her. She couldn’t really believe this guy, right? I mean, he wasn’t even telling us where he got this information.

“Tell us why you think our mom’s dead,” I sighed and rubbed my forehead in frustration.

Officer Jacobsen glanced at his son, then continued. “Your mom told you that she’d come back, right?” without waiting for a response, he went on. “Well, she didn’t, to my understanding.”

“Okay, can you please tell my how you know our mom?”

Jacobsen had a pained expression on his face. He waved toward the couch. “Sit down, son. Please.”

I complied, scowling at him. How does he know mom? I kept asking myself, frustrated that I wasn’t getting a straight answer.

“Your mom,” the officer began, wincing at every syllable. “She… she’s my sister.”

The world stuttered.

“Wh-what?” I whispered, my voice dangerously low.

“How have we never seen you before? How come she’s never told us about you?” Charlie demanded, much louder than I had been.

“Please, please,” Jacobsen said, raising his hands. “Let me explain, children. Please. Calm down, it’ll all make sense if you allow me to explain.”

“Wait,” Austin interrupted, a puzzled expression on his face. “So, you mean Reeve and Charlie are my cousins?” he looked up at his dad with a big dopey grin on his face. “That’s so cool!”

“So, you’re our uncle?” I asked, confused at the whole thought of a police officer being my uncle.

Officer Jacobsen nodded, although he didn’t look very happy. “Yes. I guess I am.” he put his face in his hands. “You have no idea how long we’ve searched for you two. Here, let me start over.” He held out his hand for me to shake. “I’m your uncle. Call me Tom, or uncle, I guess.”

I shook his hand. I had never met a relative besides grandpa, and that was just after I was born. Even though I had just met him, I felt close to him somehow. Officer Jacobsen -no, Tom- smiled at me.

“I’d love to get to know you two more,” he said. “But I don’t think this is the best time. Do you two happen to know your address?”

I glanced at Charlie. She shook her head “He, um, kinda ripped off the numbers on our house…” I remembered that day. When I was younger, I had wanted to write a letter to grandpa, but I didn’t know what I was supposed to write on the envelope, so I asked Henry. He had said to write our address in the corner, and write grandpa’s address in the center. I didn’t know our address, so I asked him. That had resulted getting whacked in the head with a kitchen chair, and a lot of screaming and yelling. Dad had then gone outside with a hammer and tore down the numbers on the house.

I didn’t like that day.

“But we know how to get there from the school,” I said, a spark of hope igniting in my chest. If we could guide the cops to our house, they could arrest dad and he’d go to jail. We’d get a better life.

Tom smiled. “That’s good. Can you show us on a map, possibly?”

I blanched. I didn’t know how to read maps.

“I can.” Charlie’s voice echoed around in my head. “I learned how to read maps in fifth period. I can show you.” I grinned at my twin. This was really happening. We were really going to change our lives for the better. We wouldn’t get hurt anymore. We’d go live with someone who actually cared about us. We’d find out what happened to mom.

I could hardly believe the drastic change in my life.