No more than four. Short black hair.
I remain where I am, cross-legged on the ground. “Yelena.”
She shrinks away, or tries to. Shakes her head, whining a high-pitched hum of fear.
“It’s okay, Yelena. It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you, and I’m not going to let anyone else hurt you. Okay?” I keep my voice calm, as if trying to lure in a stray dog.
She doesn’t move; her dark eyes are fearful through the curtain of black bangs. “You know my name?”
“You are Yelena Konstantin, and you are from Brooklyn, New York. Your father’s name is Georgios, and your mother is Elena.” I recite her address. “You have a pink stuffed penguin.”
This gets her to uncurl a tiny bit. “Pepita.”
I snicker. “Pepita, huh? That’s your penguin’s name?”
A tiny nod. And then she frowns. “How do you know who I am? I don’t know you.”
“You don’t know me. But we’re…related. I’m…a cousin, but more like an uncle.”
She doesn’t move—I’m not getting anywhere with her. She remains under the bench.
“Has anyone hurt you?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “I was in a car for a long time, and then I was on an airplane for a long time, and then I was in a big truck for another long time. And now I’m here. I’m hungry.”
“But no one has hit you or…or anything? They just brought you here?”
A nod. “Uh-huh.” She wriggles slightly, as if she’s thinking about leaving the relative safety of beneath the bench. “Are you gonna rescue me?”
“That’s a big word, huh? Rescue?”
She just stares. “I watch YouTube.”
“I see.” I sigh, thinking. “Well, Yelena. I’m not going to lie to you. Since you can use words like rescue, I’m going to talk to you like a big girl.” I pause. “Can you come out from there so we can talk together?”
A shake of her head. “Mmm-mmm. The bad man is coming soon. He has bad eyes.”
“Who is the bad man?”
A shrug, the casual gesture belied by the fear written on every feature. “He’s the bad man.”
“What’s he look like? Tall or short? Fat or skinny? Bald head, long hair, short hair?”
“He has fancy golden hair.”
“Did he tell you his name?”
A shake of her head. “Mmm-mmm.”
“What else can you tell me about the bad man?”
“His eyes are bad.”
“Well, I’m here now, Yelena. I won’t let the bad man do anything to you.”
She wriggles a bit further. “Why did they get me here?”
“Because of me, I’m afraid.”
