Off Limits

Chapter 1: The Birthday

Riley Parker had been waiting all morning for the rain to stop.

It hadn’t.

She stood by the living-room window, pressing her nose against the glass while Ethan sat on the floor behind her, pulling the ribbon off one of his presents.

“Mom said we’re going for the cake,” Riley said.

“I know.”

“She said Daddy is coming too.”

“I know.”

“You keep saying you know.”

Ethan looked up at her. “Because you keep saying things I already know.”

Riley turned around and stuck her tongue out at him.

Ethan laughed.

They had been seven for exactly three hours, and already he was irritating her.

Their mother came downstairs carrying her handbag. “Both of you, shoes. We’re leaving.”

Riley jumped from the window.

“Can I choose my cake?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because your father already ordered it.”

Ethan grinned. “Told you.”

Riley folded her arms. “Nobody asked you.”

Mrs. Parker shook her head, smiling as she watched them argue. Their birthday had been planned for weeks. A small celebration at home, their father flying in for the weekend, presents stacked in the corner and two cakes waiting to be picked up.

Nothing about the day was supposed to be unusual.

That changed outside the mall.

The rain had become heavier by the time Mr. and Mrs. Parker came back out with the cakes. Riley was holding her mother’s hand while Ethan walked beside their father, trying to keep his shoes out of the puddles.

Then Mrs. Parker stopped.

“Wait.”

Riley looked up.

Her mother was staring toward the covered entrance.

There was a boy sitting near the wall.

He looked about their age.

His clothes were soaked through. Water dripped from his hair onto his face, and his arms were wrapped tightly around himself.

Riley stared.

Ethan did too.

“Mom?” Riley asked.

Mrs. Parker released her hand.

She walked toward the boy.

“Hello.”

The boy didn’t answer.

She crouched in front of him. “Where are your parents?”

He looked at her.

For a moment, Riley thought he might speak.

Instead, he looked away.

“What’s your name?”

“Owen.”

His voice was quiet.

“Where do you live, Owen?”

He shook his head.

“What’s your mother’s name?”

Nothing.

“Your father’s?”

His fingers tightened around his knees.

Mr. Parker had put the cakes down by then.

He came closer.

“Let’s take him to the police station.”

Riley didn’t understand why.

She only knew the boy looked cold.

Very cold.

She slipped her hand out of her father’s and walked toward him.

“You can have my jacket.”

Ethan looked at her. “You’ll get cold.”

“I don’t care.”

She took off her little birthday jacket and held it out.

Owen stared at it.

Then at her.

“You’re wet,” Riley said. “Put it on.”

He hesitated before taking it.

That was the first thing Owen ever accepted from Riley Parker.

It wouldn’t be the last.

The police station took longer than Riley expected.

Adults asked questions.

People made phone calls.

Her father spoke quietly with an officer while her mother stayed beside Owen.

Riley and Ethan sat together on a bench.

“Who is he?” Ethan whispered.

“I don’t know.”

“Why is he here?”

“I don’t know.”

“You say that a lot.”

Riley elbowed him.

Eventually, the adults stopped talking in whispers.

Something had happened to Owen’s parents.

Something Riley was too young to understand properly.

They were dead.

She understood that word.

She understood it enough to notice that Owen didn’t cry when the officer said it.

He simply stared at the floor.

Her mother reached for his hand.

Owen let her hold it.

By the time they got home, the rain had softened.

Riley’s birthday cake sat untouched on the kitchen counter.

The presents were still where they’d left them.

The house looked exactly the same.

But something had changed.

Mrs. Parker knelt in front of Riley and Ethan.

“This is Owen.”

“We know,” Ethan said.

Their mother gave him a look.

Ethan straightened.

“He’s going to stay with us,” she continued.

Riley frowned.

“For how long?”

Mrs. Parker glanced at her husband.

Then she looked back at the twins.

“I don’t know how long.”

Owen stood a few steps behind her, holding the sleeve of the jacket Riley had given him.

“But while he’s here,” Mrs. Parker said, “he is family. Do you understand?”

Riley looked at Owen.

He looked uncomfortable standing there, like he was waiting for someone to tell him where he was supposed to go.

She walked over.

“Do you like cake?”

Owen blinked.

Ethan groaned. “Riley.”

“What?”

“It’s our birthday.”

“I know.”

“So why are you asking him about cake?”

“Because there’s cake.”

Ethan stared at her.

Then he looked at Owen.

“Do you like cake?”

Owen nodded.

“What kind?”

“Chocolate.”

Ethan looked offended.

“That’s my favorite.”

Riley smiled.

“Then you can have some.”

Owen looked at Mrs. Parker.

She smiled at him.

“Go on.”

He followed them into the kitchen.

That evening, the three children sat around the table.

Riley and Ethan opened presents.

Owen watched.

Their mother kept putting food on his plate.

Their father asked him what games he liked.

Ethan complained when Owen got the bigger slice of cake.

Riley laughed.

For the first time since they had found him, Owen smiled.

It was small.

Almost uncertain.

But it was there.

Nobody knew what tomorrow would look like.

Nobody knew how long Owen would stay.

Nobody knew that the boy sitting quietly at their birthday table would grow up beside them.

Riley only knew that her birthday cake tasted better when there were three plates on the table.

And Owen, for the first time in his life, had somewhere to sleep that night.

The next morning, Riley woke up earlier than usual.

She didn’t know why.

She sat up in bed and stared at the empty space beside her. Ethan was already awake. She could hear him moving around in the room they shared.

“Ethan?”

“What?”

“Is Owen still here?”

There was a pause.

“I think so.”

Riley climbed out of bed.

She hadn’t thought about Owen much after falling asleep. Yesterday had been strange. Their birthday had started with presents and cake and ended with a boy losing his parents and coming home with them.

She found Ethan in the hallway.

He was already dressed.

“Mom said we’re still going to school,” he whispered.

Riley frowned. “What about Owen?”

“What about him?”

“He has to go too.”

Ethan shrugged. “He’s new.”

“So?”

“So he doesn’t have school clothes.”

Riley thought about that.

“Oh.”

They walked downstairs together.

Owen was sitting at the kitchen table.

He looked smaller in daylight.

Mrs. Parker placed a plate in front of him.

“Good morning, sweetheart.”

Owen looked up.

“Morning.”

Riley stopped beside the table.

She stared at him for a second.

Then she noticed something.

He was wearing Ethan’s old shirt.

She looked at Ethan.

“You gave him your shirt?”

Ethan shrugged.

“He didn’t have one.”

Riley smiled.

Their mother turned around from the stove.

“After breakfast, we’re going shopping.”

“For what?” Ethan asked.

“For Owen.”

Ethan groaned.

Riley laughed.

Mrs. Parker pointed the spoon at him.

“You’re going with us.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

Owen looked down at his plate.

“You don’t have to buy me anything.”

Mrs. Parker turned toward him.

Her expression softened.

“I know I don’t have to.”

She placed another piece of toast on his plate.

“I want to.”

Owen didn’t answer.

Riley pulled out the chair beside him.

“Do you like school?”

Owen looked at her.

“I don’t know.”

“You’ll like ours.”

Ethan dropped into the chair opposite them.

“You won’t.”

Riley kicked him under the table.

“Ow!”

“You’re annoying.”

“You kicked me.”

“You deserved it.”

Owen looked between them.

For the first time, something close to amusement crossed his face.

Ethan noticed.

“You think she’s funny?”

Owen shook his head.

“Good.”

Riley rolled her eyes.

Their mother watched the three children from the kitchen.

For a moment, she said nothing.

Then she smiled.

It wasn’t much.

Just a small beginning.

But it was enough.

By the end of breakfast, Ethan was explaining which teacher he liked least.

Riley was telling Owen where the best playground was.

And Owen was listening.

He still didn’t know what he was supposed to call the woman who kept filling his plate.

He still didn’t know whether he was allowed to open the refrigerator without asking.

He still didn’t know how long this family intended to keep him.

But when Riley reached across the table and stole the last piece of toast from Ethan’s plate, Owen laughed.

Ethan stared at him.

“Don’t encourage her.”

Owen laughed again.

And Riley smiled.

Maybe having three children at the table wasn’t so strange after all.