this is shit but i haven't written anything in forever so leave me alone

Emilia kept nervously glancing at the young girl sitting in the passenger seat of her car. If Emilia's father was here, he would've yelled at her to keep her eyes on the road, but Emilia had flown planes in worse conditions. Besides, it was hard to keep her focus when there was a complete stranger about to move in with her.

Maybe not a complete stranger, because Samantha has given her a file with some basic information in it. Lucie Maria David, twelve years old. Half Puerto Rican, but Anson didn't know if she could speak Spanish. Grew up in a cult, friends with Tamara Lincoln (who was dead) and Laura Easton (who was missing). Lucie didn't have anyone. Samantha told her not to worry if she couldn't get the girl to trust her immediately.

Emilia wondered if Lucie had ever been in a car before. Maybe not, since Emilia had to remind her to fasten her seatbelt, but that could just be the shock. Lucie kept a doll with straight blonde hair and large blue eyes on her lap. She didn't say a word the whole drive, just stared at the doll, and then her hands, and sometimes straight ahead at the road.

It didn't take them long to arrive at Emilia's house, a small two-storey house with snow-white walls and a grey roof that looked like it was straight out of a minimalist Pinterest board. Lucie took a step out of the car, and stood holding the doll and a small pink bag, patiently waiting for Emilia to let her into the house.

When the pair entered, Lucie cautiously perused the few decorations Emilia had. There were a few family photos up, a bookshelf with a few old textbooks, some biographies Emilia meant to read but never had the time to and a couple of books by ex-agents on negotiation and reading people. "It's Lucie, with an IE, right?" The voice startled Lucie, and she turned around to see Emilia standing in the doorway of the living room.

"Sorry. Just thought I should introduce myself since I've already been told a bit about you. My name is Emilia Flores. I work as a crisis negotiator. I was born in California, and I have two older brothers and two older sisters. You can see them in some of these photos." She gestured vaguely towards the photos on the bookshelf. "If you have any questions, you can ask whatever you want." Lucie stayed silent, just looking at the agent.

"Are you hungry?"
"Mhm."
"Can you eat peanuts?"
"Yeah."
"You want a PB&J?"
"Sure."

Emilia walked away into the kitchen as Lucie continued to explore the house. Emilia didn't seem to keep much in her house, nothing particularly recognisable. Lucie just kept staring at the bookshelf, stunned by the absence of a Bible. Maybe that was for the best. Lucie wasn't really in the mood to go to Sunday school any time soon.

Emilia silently handed Lucie a plate with a sandwich cut diagonally. "Do you want to leave your bag in your room?" Lucie's eyes widened, but she nodded. Emilia reminded herself of what Samantha said about her barely talking for weeks when she got out. This was normal, well, as normal as things could be for a kid that just got out of a cult. She led Lucie up the stairs, to an untouched guest bedroom. "Do you want to be alone?" Lucie nodded. Emilia left the room and walked back downstairs. She took her phone out of her pocket and dialled Samantha's number.

"Hello?"

"It's Emilia. What do I do with a child that grew up in a cult?"