"It already went too far before you ever got involved," she replied. "It went too far the very first time he laid his hands on me; I was just too blind to see it. Please don't worry."
"You're welcome to," she replied. "I'm at the same address. But you don't have to worry about it. I shouldn't be gone long. My dad just doesn't want me going to school while Evan is still there."
Poppy's house looked practically the same when Francis approached it later that day. Em and another, slightly older looking boy with feathery brown hair and bright, curious brown eyes were playing in the front yard, chasing each other with sticks and laughing so hard they could barely stand upright.
The boy noticed Francis first and put down his stick, looking at Francis with a cocked head. "May I help you with something?" he asked politely as Em slowed to a stop next to him.
"I think so," he said uncertainly. "Papa went to the doctor to get some medication, but I'm not sure if they're back yet. Come on, we'll find her." He dropped the stick and headed inside. Em squinted at Francis, annoyed that he had interrupted their game, and followed her brother inside.
The young boy led them up the stairs and stopped at a white door. He knocked three times. "Pops?" There was the sound of a chair scootching on the floor, and Poppy opened the door. Her hair was back in a messy bun, but various curls had come out of place when she had tugged them thoughtfully. She had on large, round reading glasses and she blinked at them, her eyes magnified in the glass. She had a bandage wrapped around her left hand, but deep bruises peeked out from under them. "Oh! Hi! You're here already."
"Oh, thank you," she said, obviously a little flustered. She opened the door a little wider. "Here, you can come in. I'm just finishing up some work."
He stepped in, looking around. "I tried to figure out your classes so I could get the work, but I don't know if I got all of it."
