The Thief Read Free Page B

croissants and coffee out of a church.”
    “ That’s why we’re remodeling
it, kiddo,” Gabriel replied, smiling and squinting through the sun
at the traffic going by. “See all those cars? This place is
perfectly situated. There’s an entire business development park
just a mile down the road. And the school’s right around the
corner. You really have no idea how much Havenwood has grown in the
last few years. And I don’t have to take this from a fifteen year
old,” he chided.
    “ Young or old, discount
sound advice at your own peril,” she said solemnly.
    “ Thank you, Fortune
Cookie.”
    Camille sighed and brushed her long, curly
gold hair out of her face. The sun glinted off the large iron
bracer that encircled most of her left forearm. This place was
sweltering, even though it was already November. Weather in the
southern United States was not kind. The humidity level nearly
rendered the air a solid. She’d left her favorite hoodie in the
car. Yes, they had a car, suddenly. He’d been her guardian for six
years, and they’d never had a car. Just like she’d never been
outside Tokyo, or gone to a real school. To her knowledge, Gabriel
had never started a cafe either, despite claiming to know all about
it. He was changing everything all at once. Tokyo to Alabama?
Really?
    “ Why are we here?” she
despairingly asked, for what felt like the millionth time
today.
    “ To check for vandalism,” he
said.
    “ You know what I
mean.”
    “ Ask me later,” he
said.
    She folded her arms. “Is it later yet?”
    “ Nope,” he responded, good
mood unfaltering. “Come on, let’s see how far the construction crew
got on the inside.”
    “ You’re in a good mood,” she
commented, sullenly.
    “ I love this city,” he said,
crossing the lot to the building’s front door.
    The ‘city,’ in Camille’s opinion, could
barely be called such.
    Gabriel had claimed Havenwood was fairly
large but after their plane had landed they’d driven away from the
comforting loom of overpasses and onto a winding two-lane road. The
roads coming off the highway curved and snaked through patches of
crops, freshly built subdivisions, and patches of crops being
turned into subdivisions. There were trees everywhere. Though she
saw some small mountains on the horizon, the stretch of highway the
church/bakery was situated on was very flat, much more than Camille
was accustomed to. She had never been around so many trees in such
a concentrated area. And so tall and well-established, and creeping
in all around...overhanging the road...she felt a little
claustrophobic. The trees in Japan, back home in Tokyo, had been
beautiful and spindly and strategically placed in gardens and
parks, due to how precious a commodity space was. Trees were
centerpieces – works of art. Here, it felt like the trees were the
rightful owners of the land – an army that swarmed back in as soon
as you cut it back.
    Though the leaves were already starting to
fall, yellows and reds still splotched the canopy like a canvas.
Camille likened them to bruises. The colors reminded her of the
trees’ losing battle against the coming winter – sad, but also
brave, and therefore beautiful. Though with heat like this in
November, she had a hard time imagining much of a true winter.
    Camille missed the civilized feeling of
buildings on all sides, the order and careful design of
architecture. The comforting bustle of a tight-packed metropolis,
that she felt an utter lack of now. Just one more factor to add to
the list of things that made her feel alien.
     
    The odd part was, for the first time in her
life she didn’t look alien. Her parents had been Scottish; she had
curly golden hair and green eyes - not exactly common in Japan,
where she’d been born. She’d been an object of curiosity there,
even though culturally she was about as Japanese as they came.
Gabriel, on the other hand...
    No one who met them ever asked if Gabriel
was her father. It was too obvious