What Janie Saw Read Free Page A

people who stare at her.”
    Janie doesn’t need me either
, Reeve thought.
    He tried to be glad. He wanted Janie strong and tough.
    But mostly, he wanted Janie.
    He and Brianna were sitting on a campus bench, enjoying the wind. Red and gold leaves fell off the maples and piled up around their ankles. Reeve remembered the first time he had had the courage to kiss Janie Johnson.
    Brianna said, “No pressure, Reeve. It would just be a fun weekend at the cabin. You’ll bunk with Dad and my brother and I’ll bunk with Mom and my sister.”
    The harsh stench of bleach soaked into the woman formerly known as Hannah. It was a symbol. She could pour cleanser on everything, every hour of every day, but nothing would clean up. Nothing would have the beauty of young life and a world ahead of it. That girl had permanently stained Hannah’s existence.
    Finally the day was over.
    In a bathroom at the motel, she peeled off her uniform and stuffed it in a plastic grocery bag. She took street clothes out of another plastic bag. When she was dressed, she did not look in a mirror. She did not see that her shirt was unevenly buttoned and her hair was matted. She walked away.
    She had a car but kept it a secret.
    The Jennie-Janie situation had riveted the nation for a while, but everything got old, and so had the face on the milk carton. Nevertheless, Hannah had to assume that the FBI and the police never gave up. She was forced to live under stolen names. She couldn’t fly on planes or lead a normal life. She even parkedin different places every day, took different routes to work. She lied about everything.
    This afternoon, she went nowhere near her car but headed by a crazy route to a library branch, crossing streets here and there to shake off anybody following her.
    At this library, you had to sign up for computer use, showing an ID. She had a stolen ID she used only at this annoying branch. The librarians assigned you a specific computer, which meant they could go look at your search history if they wanted. You had exactly one hour. Then it turned off. By itself. No matter what you wanted.
    Libraries used to be nice places, where nice people talked softly and handed you a good book. Now they were mean places, where nasty people strode up and looked over your shoulder, making sure you weren’t doing something they disapproved of and gleefully informing you that you had only five minutes left.
    She settled into her cubicle.
    When the librarian finally puttered away, Hannah Googled “Janie Johnson” and “Jennie Spring.”
    No matter what the media claimed, they were not the same girl. She, Hannah, had created Janie Johnson. But did anybody give Hannah credit? The media always acted as if only Janie mattered. And they never called that girl by her birth name, Jennie Spring. They always called her by the name Hannah had given her. Janie.
    Janie was
nothing
!
    Janie would
never
have been anything if Hannah had not bestowed a newfamily on her.
    It had been a while since Hannah had checked the Internet. She had to hold two jobs to stay alive. She hated both jobs. But she loved the Internet.
    Someday she would finally have money. Someday she would have her own computer.
    Hannah did not run checks on Janie because she was curious. Certainly not. That girl could drop dead and Hannah would be glad. Hannah checked because she needed information.
    The computer cubicles on either side of her were occupied. One man and one woman, job hunting. They didn’t know how to use computers, so the librarian kept trotting over to poke keys for them. Each time, the librarian’s eyes roved over Hannah’s screen.
    Hannah prided herself on staying alert. One click and she could have the Weather Channel screen hiding her Google search.
    And there it was: “Janie Johnson”—the video. By Visionary Assassins.
    Everybody listened to them! Hannah heard their music seeping out of earbuds when she waited for the bus, when joggers passed her by, when store doors