Emily—Compiled (Patreon)

No other character has arrived in Ailana's Journal and received more care and concern from you than Emily Amos.

On both IG and Patreon, the number of comments, questions, and encouraging remarks toward and about Emily have been remarkable. Almost every chapter drew thoughtful reactions.

Therefore, I decided to compile her arrival chapters into one place so that you can go back and review them easily.

This collection shows all of the chapters that chronicle Emily's journey from desperation to a new beginning.

2026-01-20

LATE HOMEWORK AGAIN by Emily Amos

I suppose I’m going to have to turn my essay in late again. Maybe I can still pass tenth grade.

My mom works from home most of the time, and some man is coming over. I usually leave. This time I need to leave now—mom is still yelling.

“Emily Taylor Amos! You need to be gone before this one gets here. He doesn’t like to see you when he arrives.”

“I’m leaving! So stop yelling!”

I’ll go to the 7-Eleven where I work part-time and hang out for a few hours. If I’m lucky, I can talk whoever’s working into clocking out and letting me clock in. Every dollar helps.

2026-01-30

TIME FOR SCHOOL by Emily Amos

It’s time to get going so I can catch the bus to school. I already changed into fresh clothes and put on deodorant. I think I might as well start keeping clothes packed.

I worked from 4 to 10 last night, but when I clocked out, I just hung out talking to the shift manager. There was a stack of macaroni and cheese—the kind in the blue and yellow box—that had gotten chocolate on it, so no one wanted it. I asked if I could have it, since she was putting it on the waste list and going to throw it away.

“Sure… You can take it.”

I bagged it up and put it in my backpack, then she scared me pretty bad. “Emily, is everything okay at home?”

That’s what adults say right before they call CPS and make a report.

“Oh, yeah. But I really like mac-n-cheese. I don’t want to see it go to waste.”

“You know… if things aren’t right at home, I need to let someone know about it. It’s company policy for working with teens.”

I told her everything was okay, but we didn’t have a lot of extra money. But everything really isn’t fine. I’m counting down to the end of May when I finish 10th grade, then… something…

It was time for the shift managers to change, and the late manager has to work the store alone. I told him I was going out the back door in the stockroom. He really can’t come back here and leave the floor, so I opened and closed the door, then got to my corner—there’s no cameras pointing here, and the recorder is broken.

It’s odd. The concrete is cold even through the cardboard, and everything smells like dust, soda syrup, and old boxes. But, it feels peaceful to me.

He don’t know I’ve slept back here. And calling it sleep is a stretch. But mom had business going last night, and I’m just tired of being around it. I can sleep in chemistry class. I’ll be okay.

Right now, I’m waiting on the night manager to leave. Then I’ll tell the morning manager I just got here before her and came back to look for my calculator.

Then, I’ll use the bathroom and hurry to the bus stop.

2026-02-05

GOOD NEWS, BAD DAY by Emily Amos

Last night I got some good news, sort of. But today at school, things were a little sketchy for me.

Two nights ago, my mom crashed out on me for not coming home when she was doing work overnight. “You can’t keep sleeping out places, Emily Taylor. Somebody will report it, and I’ll lose the SNAP money. I need that.”

She went on to say that, after last night, she’d stop doing work late at night for a while and that I wouldn’t have to find places to stay. That’s the good news.

Today at school, though, there were some issues. A girl in chemistry, Maddie, called me out for wearing the same pants.

“Those are the ones you had on yesterday. Remember? I accidentally marked Sharpie on them. Didn’t you change clothes?”

I played it cool and told the truth—leaving out the part about hiding in the public library bathroom. “Of course… I just wore the same pants. Save on wasting water.”

She didn’t say anything else, but I doubt she bought it.

Then in math, a nice boy—Hunter—asked for my calculator. I unzipped my backpack, and he could see my bra, panties, and one last box of macaroni.

“Macaroni and underwear,” he said. “That’s a strange combination.”

I rolled my eyes. “Duh… they don’t go together. I got the mac at work and forgot to unpack it.”

I think he wanted to make another remark but couldn’t think of anything funny to say.

Next thing I knew, I was called into an admin’s office. “Emily, one of your teachers says you’re sleeping in class and sometimes you have unusual things in your backpack. Can I take a look?”

“I got snacks and a change of clothes. Books… I don’t have any contraband.” I thought she was searching for vapes or something, so I showed her.

“Where’s your phone?”

I told the truth. “We can’t afford one for me.”

Then I was getting that call-to-CPS vibe, so I started hoping she was really busy.

“You have enough snacks for days in here…”

Then her radio went off: “Female admin to girls’ bathroom on the 200 hall. Nonemergency.”

I dodged that bullet. And said a prayer of thanks for that radio call.

2026-02-17

ACCIDENTAL HIDEOUT by Emily Amos

I accidentally found a new hideout. Mom stopped working through the whole night, but most of the time she’s still got business at least to 10:00 or so. I don’t want to be there when she works.

I’m in the bathroom of a thrift store near Carson Avenue. I came in for some clean socks and underwear since I haven’t had a chance to go to the laundry. I mean, like, not to put on now, but for tomorrow. And honestly, they got new packs of cheap underwear here for about what it'd cost to wash what I have!

Anyway, I was using the bathroom before I go hide out tonight before I go home. I found this big van parked in the El Cortez Parking Garage right up by a wall. It has four flat tires and hasn’t moved for weeks.

I took some cardboard and put it on the ground behind it in the corner. I can sit there and study or nap and no one has seen me so far. I’ve gone there three times already.

Well, I was just washing my hands and about to leave when the thrift store manager called out. “Anyone in there?”

“I’m washing.”

“I’m locking the door. You can open it from inside. Make sure it closes behind you, and go out the side door. The front exit’s closed.”

I heard the door lock, then she called out to the other bathroom, then I heard her go back into the store.

I propped open the door, went out, and yelled, “Thank you.”

Then I opened and closed the side door like I was leaving. I checked—it don’t have an alarm I could see. But… it’s a thrift store. Who’d break in?

I mean… besides me.

I’ll really go out that way later.

Now, I’m back inside the bathroom, locked away safe. It’s warm, too—much better than the parking garage. And to be honest, that little buzz of the fluorescent lights is kinda peaceful.

And no one’s honking or revving engines in here. I just have to make sure I don’t fall asleep too hard.

I’ve got to read a lot for my English class, so that’s what I’ll do for a few hours. I work at 7-Eleven tomorrow, so I won’t have to worry about where to hide out then.

I’m still counting down the days for this semester to end. I’ll miss my English teacher when it’s over, but that’s about all.

2026-02-20

BRUNCH IS A NO by Emily Amos

School just got out a while ago, and I came to the thrift shop. I guess I’m still processing something that happened in my 2-D art class.

This guy—a senior named Ian—and I have to share supplies. We were cleaning up at the end of the period.

“Emily, my sister,” he said, “got a painting in an art show at the park tomorrow.”

“Bruh… that’s fire.”

“It’s a brunch, and she gave me two tickets. You want to go with me?”

“Like a date?” Seniors don’t usually ask out sophomores.

“No, just like we go. Eat some food. Look at stuff.”

I skipped to my next concern. “It’s a brunch? Like fancy and everything?”

“It’s in a park, but a little fancy.”

I handed him the box of colored pencils to put away. “I don’t think so. I’m not really into fancy art shows.”

As of now, I don’t even own a skirt that fits. I got one from like two years and twenty pounds ago. I’m in the thrift store just thinking about buying one, but I know I won’t.

“It’s not a date.” Ian seemed to want to clear that up. “I graduate in May. I’m going to the Navy. I’m not trying to start anything.”

“I get it. I just don’t have anything to wear for a fancy art brunch. Honestly.”

“You look fine like that.”

“Stop… I appreciate the invite. But… I’ll pass.”

The truth is, I wouldn’t mind going to the brunch, just to go. Ian’s not creepy or anything, either. And I could buy a good-enough skirt here for about half an hour’s work.

But I don’t even want to spend even that on something for just one brunch. I have dreams for things to get better, and buying something I’d wear once isn’t part of my plan.

2026-02-27

IT’S MORNING by Emily Amos

Well, I guess I'm cooked. It's not even 6:00 yet, and I’m about to crash out.

Mom had business going on until like 11 last night, and I was back there behind the van trying to catch up on my math assignments. I fell asleep, and when I woke up it was time to go. I accidentally left my calculator that I had to spend about half a check to buy.

This morning, I came back to get it. Well, the van is gone. And so is my calculator.

Three more months of sticking it out, and then I can get on with my plan. But not having a calculator will be a problem.

I’m not trying to fail math, and buying a new calculator isn’t in my budget.

I guess I’ll take the L and deal.

Maybe I can get some extra shifts at 7-Eleven so I can buy a new one and keep my plan going.

2026-03-24

BEYOND NEXT by Emily Amos

As I sit here today, my thoughts go back to school, to my English class, where my teacher said to us all, “Your words are the vessel by which you can pack up your ideas and send them to someone else.”

I’m going to do my best to write in a way that would make my teacher happy. I’ll do my best to use acceptable grammar and good words. Here I go.

I learned today that I can use my words to tell you what I think, how I feel, what I did…

…who I am… or who I dream of being.

I am Emily Taylor Amos, the unplanned and unwanted daughter of Melinda Amos, born on the 12th day of January in 2010. For sixteen years, I have been a sojourner, moving between what was and what is. But something happened about a year ago that changed my course. I am now on a journey from what is to what will be.

I am counting days now; no longer months nor even weeks. There is something nice about marking the beginning of each day as one more step toward a destination.

I know my place here is temporary. I sit, sometimes, and watch as lives around me move one way, then another. The kids around me seem to think that now is everything, giving the future only a little attention now and then. Their lives are tangled with who said what, what fun they can have now, and what everyone else thinks about them.

I couldn’t care less.

I wish only to pass school this year and get myself ready for what I have decided will be next. I could almost forget about school and let my future start now. Or soon, at least. There are but a few final details to be worked out, and I know what they are and how they will be resolved. But, instead, I’ll finish what I started.

For as I sit here in my now, thinking about what is next, I know that even after what’s next, there is something more. My English teacher has helped me dream of what that might be.

I want to be a writer. I have my reasons. And here in tenth grade, for the first time ever, someone who knows about writing has told me I am good at it. I want to hold onto that for as long as possible.

Next can wait. Now is preparing me for what is beyond.

2026-04-01

NOT FOR ME by Emily Amos

About a year ago, I got the idea that playing softball would be fun. I have a reason I thought that, but it really isn’t important.

Last fall, I ended up in detention for sleeping in class, and the softball coach was monitoring it. After it was over, I mentioned I was interested.

She asked who I’d played for.

“I’ve never played. I just thought it would be fun.”

She was really nice, but high school sports aren’t where you learn to play a sport. The girls on the team have been playing since T-ball.

She kind of said I could come and practice just for fun. “What kind of glove do you have?”

“Glove… yeah, I’d need a glove.”

“Have you ever even played catch?”

“Not really… Coach, thanks for talking about it. I really don’t have time anyway.”

That was pretty much the end of it.

Softball isn’t really part of my plan. It was just kinda a fantasy. Less than that, really… just something I thought would be fun to be part of.

But here’s the thing. You can’t chase after everything you think would be fun. It needs to go along with the important things you have planned.

May 22 is my last day of 10th grade. I got a life waiting for me in the future after that. Stick with the plan, right?

2026-04-12

CHIPS AND COOKIES by Emily Amos

I feel like it’s obvious that I don’t have a lot of regard for my mother. Today doesn’t make things any better.

Basically, Mom is a terrible person who does terrible things and makes terrible decisions. (Repetition of terrible on purpose.) Today’s terrible decision comes as a result of her remembering we got the SNAP deposit.

“Go get some cookies and chips.”

That’s what she thinks the money should go to. Chips and cookies.

To make it worse, she added, “…and just get what I tell you this time. I want to see the receipt.”

So I’m at the store to get junk food.

Honestly, I don’t care. I’m counting down to school ending.

I’d call my caseworker, but there’s no way to be sure I could stay at Liberty. I’m not trying to change schools again with the end so close. Six weeks. I can come home late when she’s done with her business, sleep on the couch, and push through to the end.

After that, I’m sure things will get better.

2026-04-21

CHANGE OF SCHEDULE by Emily Amos

Who ever knows how things will turn out? School’s out on May 22, and originally, I figured it would be a couple of weeks after that before what I’m thinking comes next could happen. I thought it would have to wait a few weeks until like the second week of June.

Now, something has changed, so maybe I can get on with my life a little earlier than I planned. I’ll just have to wait and see, but I’m about ready to escape.

My mom is getting weirder and weirder. I don’t even know…

“Why do you sleep in socks? That’s bad for you, you know.”

Mind blown, I said, “First off, I don’t always sleep in socks. Second, how is it bad? Who says that? And why do you even care?”

“Why do you always talk back? If I say it’s bad, it’s bad.”

“You’re crazy,” I said. “Just leave me alone for once.”

She went back to her room, but like…what?

Anyway, moving on… One more month of school. May 22 can’t come soon enough, but really, I’ll miss Ms. Keys, my English teacher. She’s the best thing that’s happened to me this year.

Thanks for all the encouraging words. It helps me keep going.

2026-05-02

NOT OKAY by Emily Amos

My mom has totally lost it. Like maybe she’s literally insane. I’m sure she’s not stable anymore—if she ever was.

I stayed out late so she could get done with her business before I got home, so it was like after ten o’clock when I finally came in. I stayed at work talking to the night manager, then walked home.

I brushed my teeth and pulled the covers out from behind the couch to go to sleep. Then she came out wearing her robe and carrying her iPad.

“Why aren’t you asleep yet? You have school.”

“It’s Friday. I just got home from 7-Eleven.”

“You should be asleep.” She rolled her eyes and huffed.

“I’d have been asleep an hour ago if you weren’t working late again. You said to stay out when you have customers.”

She pointed at me. “You’re so ungrateful. I feed you, you know.”

“You could get a normal job,” I said.

“You don’t even understand. Just mind your own business.”

“You’re lucky,” I said, “that I don’t call my caseworker. If I didn’t care about school, I would.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” She wheeled around and went back to her room, slamming the door.

She knows I would, though. That is, if I didn’t know something better was in the works for me.

But now, for the rest of the afternoon and evening, I need to get out of the apartment. She’s got business coming, so I need to find something to do for the rest of the day.

I’ll swing by work and see if anyone wants to give me their shift. If not, I’ll probably just wander around. Maybe hang out at a park or something.

School’s out in twenty days. Counting down.

2026-05-14

EIGHT DAYS AND COUNTING by Emily Amos

I swear, my mother has completely lost it.

My mother actually didn’t have customers last night, so for once, I got to sleep around ten. I’m not exactly sure when, but a few hours later, I woke up—something pulled me from sleep enough to realize my mother was standing nearby watching me sleep.

That realization startled me enough that I sat up fast. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing.”

She was standing there in a fake-silk robe that barely reached the top of her thighs holding her iPad and just staring at me.

“What are you doing? I was asleep, you know.”

“Don’t worry about it. Go back to sleep. Can’t a mom just look at her daughter?”

I shook my head and decided to go to the bathroom. “You’re such a weirdo.”

“Don’t talk to me like that! I take care of you, you know.”

I closed the bathroom door, locked it, and looked in the mirror. I didn’t say anything, of course, but school’s out on the 22nd, and after that, things are going to change.

2026-05-19

CROSSED THE LINE by Emily Amos

I’m actually thinking about aborting this chapter of my story and getting on with my new life two weeks early. That could happen.

There are only three days of school left, all my grades are already in, and I can get zeros on all my exams and still pass. Worst-case, I can get to where I’m going and fall back on McKinney-Vento to get some relief for missing the last few days. It might apply.

Yeah, I think I know what I’m trying to do.

And after what I just went through with my mother, I’m definitely considering it.

This time, she’s totally crossed the line. Like, “Oh, there’s a line? I never pay attention to lines.”

And the thing is, I don’t know how long it’s been going on or to what extent.

The rest of this chapter is exclusive to Patreon.

Let me go back to the beginning. I got home from school as usual to find out my mother wasn’t working. She worked last night later than normal, with customers in the apartment until—I don’t know—at least 11:00 p.m. She was still busy, so I went back out and just wandered around.

Not recommended, by the way.

I’m about to crash out on some of the people that keep harassing me when I’m walking around. If I had a phone, I could post it on TikTok and go viral: Vegas teen pepper spray crash out! Bro goes down crying like a baby.

Never mind that.

I finally got to sleep around 1:00 a.m. Four hours later, I got up, cleaned up, and left. I didn’t want to be there when she woke up.

I got home after school today, like I said, and she didn’t have anyone coming over. I hit the sofa and was gone.

I guess a few hours passed and I heard a thump. When I looked up, the flash on my mother’s iPad went off.

Her words of regret were a stream of profanity.

“What are you doing!”

I didn’t need her to answer to know. She was taking pictures of my feet.

“Nothing. Go back to sleep.”

“Give me your iPad! Delete that!”

“No!” She backed up and almost fell.

“Are you on drugs?”

“Show some respect! I’m just trying to keep food on the table.”

“What?” I had to let that sink in, and when I realized what she was up to, I felt sick. “Give me that! Delete that picture.”

For some reason she thought the next thing she said was helpful. “This time, this one got sent directly to the buyer. I can’t delete it.”

My brain unpacked all that fast. “This time? This one? There are others?”

“Why can’t you be grateful? I’m just trying to keep a roof over your head.”

I snapped, “Then get a job like a real mother would.”

“Emily Taylor Amos! How dare you talk to me like that. You’re almost grown now. It’s time you helped out with expenses.”

“I do help out. I buy all my own everything.” Then I remembered something and didn’t like it. “Is this why you bought me nail polish?”

She didn’t answer my question. “I buy you plenty of things! Don’t be ungrateful!”

“Ha!” I shook my head. “You hardly buy food. What do you spend your money on? You’re buying drugs again, aren’t you?”

“I am not!”

“Then are you working for them?”

She turned around and stormed into her room.

I just sat here letting all that sink in. Phrases like “this time,” “this one,” and “buyer” told a story I can hardly imagine.

I replayed recent weeks, trying to think whether I was ever in the presence of her iPad when the pictures would have been worse. I don’t think so, unless wet hair and a T-shirt over shorts after a shower counts as worse, and I don’t know if she took a picture of that.

So my rage curdled into despair as I sat here.

I reviewed my plan, starting with checking my backpack to make sure my Social Security card and birth certificate were still there—they were. I had my caseworker’s phone number on a business card with it.

I recounted my prepaid debit cards to make sure I’d saved enough. I checked on a few other details of my plan, confirming I was ready.

If I called my caseworker, she’d swoop in and I’d be off to someplace I can’t predict. This might be bad, but at least I know how things go.

Making my move now could work. But it would create a lot of stress and could cause problems I don’t want to create. I’m going to rock the boat, no matter what happens, so I might as well try to cause the least trouble possible.

I decided I can stick to the original timetable, for now. June 1 isn’t that far off.

2026-05-26

I CAN MAKE IT by Emily Amos

Well, my mother totally freaked out on me this morning. She threatened to call the cops. Now that’s a twist, ’cause I’ve been thinking of doing that.

I won’t because it would mess up my plan. And I can’t let her do that, because it would get me back into foster care and everything would go sideways.

After the iPad incident the other night, I decided I’d be better off crashing anywhere but here. After school Friday, I had to work anyway, so I crashed in the storeroom like I used to do. I managed a couple of nights in the thrift store bathroom.

I also slept in an ER waiting room one night. I went in the main entrance and made my way through like I was visiting someone, then got to the ER right when the guards were changing shifts. It was crowded and I didn’t do anything to call attention to myself. I got away with it.

My mother should have been sleeping, and I needed to get some clean clothes and a few other things, so I came back here. She had a customer just leaving, and she caught me.

She blew up.

She said if she wakes up and finds me missing, she’s calling the police and reporting me. I said if she does, I’ll report her!

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“You better bet I would,” I said. “So just leave me alone.”

All the same, I’m not going anywhere right now. I can wait out these last days.

On the off chance she did report me, everything would be messed up. I’ve been planning for months and dreaming for a year. I can hold out five more days.

2026-05-29

CHANGE OF PLANS by Emily Amos

I think there’s a saying about best-laid plans. Well, it applies.

A lot has happened since about 6 p.m. last night. So far, I’m okay. Nothing bad happened to me, really, but if I hadn’t taken off, I can’t say the same would be true.

I’m at the airport, which is part of the original plan. I’m just here on the 28th, not the 31st. I had to take off pretty quickly and only grabbed the backpack I always keep ready.

Getting to the gates wasn’t a big issue. I had my ticket, my boarding pass, and my name matched the reservation. That was the big thing.

TSA doesn’t make kids under eighteen show ID for a domestic flight, which I only knew because I checked about six times before I left.

When I bought the ticket, my birthday was in the reservation. My name was on the boarding pass. TSA already had whatever information they needed from the airline side.

I still had my school ID because I wasn’t trying to look suspicious or make my life harder, but nobody asked for it.

So I just stood in line like everyone else, handed over what they asked for, took off my shoes, tried not to look as scared as I felt, and kept moving.

The big problem is that I wasn’t dressed to look like a traveler when I left. I always keep some snacks, a change of underwear, an extra T-shirt, and some leggings in my backpack. But I stopped at the thrift shop and bought some mom jeans, and in a second, I’ll change into them.

I got here about 9:00 p.m. last night and won’t leave until 1:35 p.m. today. So I had to stay off security’s radar. In a case like this, not being noticed is the same as not being seen. Mom jeans, do your thing.

When I bought my ticket, I made a mistake that turned out to be good fortune. I was able to book onto an earlier flight because I bought the wrong kind of ticket to start with. Otherwise, I’d have had to camp out here until Sunday.

Looking forward, I think everything will be fine. I’ve got a little money left on prepaid debit cards.

Looking back, I think I narrowly escaped something terrible.

The rest of this chapter is exclusive to Patreon.

My mother basically put me on house arrest Tuesday. I should have known something was up when she didn’t have customers that night.

Wednesday, she had me go to the store for a couple of hours, but still, there wasn’t the normal traffic, and there was no business that night.

Right before 6 p.m. last night, she came out of her room wearing pants and a T-shirt. I’m not sure when the last time I saw her wearing real clothes was.

“Emily, someone’s coming over.”

I picked up my backpack. “How long do you want me to be gone?”

“You can’t go,” she said.

“I’m not sitting here with you working. I’m done with that. So, when do you want me back, or can I just not come back at all?”

“You can’t go,” she said. “You’re the reason he’s coming.”

“Did you call the cops?” I started mapping my route out of the building in my head, avoiding where the cops would pull up.

“No, Emily, I told you… it’s time you start helping pay the bills. This is a good opportunity…”

I might have blinked once before I understood her plan.

“Are you crazy?” I backed away from her and closer to the door. “Are you out of your mind? You might be a criminal, but you’re not making me part of it! Have you lost it for real this time?”

“Emily! Stop being a baby! In the 1600s, you’d be married and have kids by now. You need to step up.”

I think she started giving me coaching tips, but I was already moving for the door.

“Emily Taylor Amos! Stop!”

That’s the last thing I ever plan on hearing that woman say.

I didn’t stop until I ducked into the thrift store. I had a small duffel bag with most of my best clothes in it packed and hid behind the sofa. I ran out so fast, I didn't even try to grab it. So I'm leaving home with what I have on plus a bra, panties, pair of socks, T-shirt, black leggings, and the jeans I bought.

Coming out of the thrift store, I saw a cop car, but that’s not unusual. It was heading toward the apartment, but there was a fifty-fifty chance of that anyway. Still, I had to wonder if she called them.

Then I thought about what she was up to and figured, no way.

I got on a bus and made it to the airport. That’s when I found out how lucky I was that I’d accidentally bought a ticket that could be changed. So instead of having to wait and fly out Sunday night, I fly out this afternoon.

When I land, it will be around 11 p.m., so I’ll stay somewhere safe. The key is not to get noticed, but if anyone notices, just don’t be doing anything they’d care about.

I got a drink earlier and kept the cup. I can pull it out if no one is looking and make like I’m just having a soda.

When I walk, I walk like I’m supposed to be going somewhere. I’ll go to where people are waiting to board and act like I’m one of them. Then, when the plane comes in, I’ll mix with whoever gets off and walk somewhere else.

I don’t have to wait here too much longer.

When I get off the plane, like I said, it will be around 11 p.m. I’ll have to find someplace that looks like I belong and just crash for a few hours before I leave the airport.

I guess it’s all really the same, just a few days sooner than originally planned. Whatever.

Goodbye Las Vegas. If I make it back later… forget you ever knew me.

2026-05-30 — These last five chapters repeat the Ailana's Journal chapters for the same day

NOT NORMAL SHIFT by Brooks McKenna

I’m working today from 10 to 4, which isn’t unusual. What’s unusual is what just happened.

I’m working the counter when a girl walks in looking at an Island Metro map and shaking her head. She looked outside, then back at the map. I could see she was probably lost, but I greeted her like normal.

“Welcome to Whataburger.”

She looked up, tired eyes, and forced a smile. “Can I just stand here a minute? I won’t cause trouble.”

I thought that was an odd thing to say, but I answered. “Sure, no problem. Can I help you with something? Is that a map?”

She nodded, sighed, and came to the counter. “I fell asleep on the bus and missed my street. I think. Or maybe I got off too soon. Maybe you can help me figure out where I am and how I can get to where I’m supposed to be?”

She wasn’t anyone I knew from school. She sure didn’t look like a tourist, either.

“Okay,” I said when she laid the map on the counter, “you’re here. Where are you trying to go?”

“I have family here.” She pointed to a circle she’d drawn on the map. “Looks like I overshot.”

I counted. “Looks like about eight blocks.”

She looked down the street. “So, like that way?”

“Yeah,” I said, “or you can wait for the next bus, ride it around, and get off going down Gulf.”

“Okay… yeah… Would it be okay to sit here and watch?”

I was about to say yes when I looked up and Officer Lopez was coming in.

“Welcome to Whataburger.”

“Hi, Brooklyn. How are you?”

The girl started moving away from her map like she was about to become invisible.

Officer Lopez looked at her. “Hi. Are you doing okay?”

“She missed her street,” I said. “She’s going to catch the bus and make the loop.”

“Where are you headed?”

The girl sighed. “I’m here to visit family.”

Officer Lopez looked at her backpack. “Traveling light, I see.”

“Yeah, I had another bag but it got lost. I’m sure it will turn up.”

Officer Lopez looked at me, then back at the girl. “Well, I’m sure I can help you out. What’s your name?”

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“Emily Amos,” the girl said.

Lopez looked around, then said, “Why don’t you call your family?”

“I actually don’t have a phone.”

“Okay, that’s not a problem. I’ll drive you to your family.”

“You don’t need to do that. I’m fine.”

“It’s not a problem, really.” Officer Lopez looked out to the parking lot. “Emily, do you think anyone is worried about where you are?”

“No ma’am,” Emily replied. “I got here a little earlier than planned so they’re not looking for me.”

“I ought to check and see if there are any reports. Just so we know what we’re getting into.”

Emily rolled her eyes and got a ziplock back out of her backpack. It looked like it had documents in it.

“Here… My school ID is in there. I figure you’d be asking…”

Lopez opened the bag and took the ID. “I’ll text dispatch and they can check. I could radio, but you don’t want to hear all that. Come on…let’s get you to your family. I bet they'll be surprised to see you.”

Emily smiled and nodded. “Yeah, they'll be surprised. They aren’t expecting me right now.”

I KNOW THAT LOOK by Jasmine Banks

Today started slow enough that Geoni gave Kel her camera, and he talked me into modeling for him outside. I was telling him what Ailana had taught me about the camera settings, and he was trying them out when we saw a cop car stop.

Kel put the camera down and followed me to see what was going on. A young woman cop got out of the car with a young girl.

I’d never seen either of them, but… I’ll just tell you what happened.

The girl had only taken a few steps around the car when she saw me. “Jasmine! Hey! I’m early. Is Ailana here?”

Everything in my brain registered that this girl was trying to act like she belonged here. She was trying to convince the cop that nothing was out of order. I knew something was, but I guess I flashed back to my foster days, so I didn’t throw her under the bus.

“She’s over in Port Isabel at the studio,” I said.

“Oh, wow.” The girl shook her head. “I bet I rode the bus right by.”

The officer spoke up. “So you know Emily?”

“We do.” “We do.” Kel had caught on and looked at her. “How’ve you been?”

Emily smiled. “Long trip, but… I loved seeing you in Chicago. That giant bean! I’d love to see that one day.”

Kel played along. “It was pretty awesome.”

Emily took a step away from Officer Lopez. “I missed the stop and Officer Lopez offered to drive me.”

I looked at Officer Lopez and smiled. “I think you met my husband. Micah Banks? Black man on the beach a while back?”

She looked down, mortified. “That was so embarrassing. I had to file a report, though. He was kind.”

“He said you were very professional.”

She handed me a ziplock bag. “I contacted dispatch. Emily Amos… no one’s looking for her.”

I glanced at the bag. School ID, Social Security card, birth certificate… I handed it to Kel. “Where’s your luggage?”

“She’s traveling light,” Officer Lopez replied. “Is it okay if I leave her here until her sister gets home?”

I nodded. “Sure…no problem.”

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Inside my head, my brain was spinning out of control. Sister? Was this kid saying Ailana was her sister? I figured Allen would be surprised by that. Still, I felt like giving her a chance to explain herself.

I was, by then, sure the girl was trying hard to dodge trouble with the police, so I smiled and nodded. I figured I could buy some time, hear her story, and call the police back if I needed to.

I looked at Officer Lopez. “I’ll call Ailana and let her know Emily’s here. Thanks for helping out.”

“Absolutely not a problem,” Officer Lopez replied. “Really no trouble at all. And I’m really sorry about having to check out your husband that time.”

I could tell bringing up Micah to her had given her a reason to get going. I was kinda glad about that. The sooner I could get Emily to tell the truth, the better.

“Not a problem, really,” I said to Officer Lopez. “Like I said, he thought you were nothing but professional.”

Officer Lopez nodded and got in the car. Emily moved to where I was standing and we all watched Officer Lopez drive away.

I turned to Emily. “You’ve got about three minutes to convince me not to call her back. I’ve never met you and you get out of the car acting like you know me?”

“I sort of do. You’re Jasmine Banks. Your husband is Micah. You married right out of high school and have been happy ever since. You called Sasha a while back and she hired you to help with AGI-Creative and SwimFit. You’re a beautiful model and you’re studying nursing and business at the same time.”

I was probably staring at her with my mouth open. Kel saved the moment.

“You got all that from Instagram?”

Emily looked down. “I’d go to the library every chance I could and catch up. I’m so happy for you, by the way.”

Kel looked at me. “I did some Instagram digging, too, after I met Josh and Geoni.”

Emily looked at him and smiled. “I saw your Bean picture on my mom’s iPad when she was sleeping Wednesday.”

Kel went on. “How long have you been planning on running away from home?”

“What makes you think I ran away?”

“No one takes their birth certificate with them if they’re planning to go back. How long?”

Emily looked down, nodding. “Since a few months after last March, when ‘Growing Up Ailana’ came up on a Bing search.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“My mother thought the cops were after her, so she searched herself. Then, she searched for her former married name. Melinda Amos Geven, and there it was… ‘Bouncing Baby Girl.’ That’s when I realized Ailana and I have the same worthless piece of trash mother.”

I texted Ailana: “Tell Vanessa and Min it has to be another time. You need to get home immediately. Too much to text.”

SO IT WILL BE by Jason Keller

Ailana and I got back to the condos and Jasmine met us at the car.

“So, here’s the deal…”

She told us everything that had happened. Ailana seemed unable to speak.

“Where’s Emily?” I asked.

“She’s with Josh and Geoni,” Jasmine replied.

I led Ailana there and we sat down.

She grabbed my hand, voice shaking. “Say something.”

I took a breath. “Well, Emily, I’m Jason.”

“I read your stories, too.” Emily smiled. “I think you’re awesome. I mean… you eventually realized everything, right?”

I nodded. “Emily, we don’t have your advantage of knowing us. This is hard.”

Josh handed me the birth certificate. “Her mother is Melinda Amos. Sasha checked Ailana’s birth certificate from her I-9 file. Both mothers have the same name and SSN.”

Ailana took the birth certificate, shook her head, and looked at Emily. “So, my mother didn’t stop at ruining my life. She started over and tried to ruin yours, too.”

Emily looked at Ailana. “Our mother is evil. And she’s totally flipped out.”

I waited for everyone to catch their breath, then said, “Emily, why did you run away?”

She told us about pictures—bad enough, but then she told us what Melinda wanted her to do. I couldn’t believe it. A mother forcing her daughter into… Unspeakable and unthinkable.

Geoni broke the awkward silence that followed after Emily stopped talking. “What a horrible woman.”

Ailana was looking down, shaking her head. “Emily, why did you come here?”

“I need help,” Emily replied. “You’re a blood relative, so you can apply for emergency temporary orders to be my conservator. In Texas, it might start with an Ex Parte Temporary Restraining Order, but same idea.”

I looked at Josh and he was nodding. “Sound’s about right.”

“It is.” Emily nodded. “Google said so. I won’t have to go back to foster. And…”

“And what?” I said.

“I want to be here. I want to be with my sister. I’ve dreamed of this for a year now. I want this more than anything. I want to be a writer, like you.”

Crying, Ailana turned to me. “Tell her… You know what to say…”

I looked at Emily. “We’ll try to make it work.”

CALLS TO MAKE by Josh Ryan

When Jason said, “We’ll try to make it work,” I knew he was talking about Ailana and himself. Naturally, I wanted to be part of the solution.

But Emily was clearly exhausted, and Geoni could tell. “Let’s take a break. Emily, how would you feel about some sleep and maybe a shower?”

That turned into a plan and a realization. The plan was that Sasha would host Emily. The realization was that she hadn’t slept in a bed for more than eighteen months.

My resolve doubled, and after Emily was settled, I guess I got a little bossy. “Jason… Ailana… let’s take a walk.”

We went down our street toward the Gulf, and I told them what I was thinking. “First off, do you want to make this temporary thing happen?”

Ailana turned to me. “Absolutely. How can we not? She’s desperate and you heard what her mother was going to do. If we let her go back to foster care, I don’t think I could face myself. And Jasmine would be wrecked. So, yes.”

“You’re sure?”

Ailana laughed. “I’m sure I want to help. I’m also sure I have no idea how to be what she needs. I’m willing to try, but I’m sure I’ll get it wrong.”

Jason looked at her. “We’ll be wrong together.”

That was enough for me—I made my offer. “Let me make a call. I know it’s Saturday, but Pops knows judges in Chicago. I’m sure someone knows someone in Texas. Pops will have one of his golf buddies call some judge in Austin and… you get the idea. We can get a quick fix for the weekend and set up a hearing for as soon as possible.”

Ailana looked at Jason. Jason looked at me.

“Make the call. We’ll need a lawyer.”

“Pops will connect us to the best in Texas. I don’t like to throw my family name and money around as a rule, but this… How could a mother do that? I’ll hire the best lawyer money can buy. She figured out how to get here. We can figure out how to let her stay.”

Jason and Ailana thanked me, but truthfully, I was thinking about Emily sitting on my sofa begging for someone to rescue her.

She swam across the Gulf to find a safe life. I’m going to pull her onto the dock, if it's the last thing I do.

GOOD NIGHT

We made it to Denny’s tonight, and Jason got the headshots done this morning, so we can say our day’s plan held at the beginning and end of the day.

The middle? Not so much.

Jason, Emily, and I are here, and of course, I’m having a Lumberjack Slam. She said I’ve posted about them so many times, she ordered one, too.

Okay, she was shocked by how much food comes with it. “You’re going to eat all that?”

“I’m going to try,” I said.

Okay, here’s where we are. (I mean besides, obviously, being at Denny’s.)

No one is going to jail this weekend. We got a some-sort-of-document from the court saying Emily can stay in our custody pending a hearing. A hearing date will be set ASAP.

Josh’s dad arranged for a lawyer from Austin to call us. Josh told him to build a complete case. There will be private investigators. I think there will be subpoenas or warrants. Legal things that tell people what to do. It’s not important to know what they are called. It’s important that they find the facts we need to make this work.

I suppose the significance of starting all of this at Denny’s is obvious to a lot of you. So many of my defining moments have happened in booths like this.

This morning, I said it seemed like a good place for Jason and me to start a new season of our lives.

This is definitely not what I thought would be in the first episode.

I told Emily I’m terrified. “I have no idea how to be a guardian or conservator. I’m not even sure I know how to be a wife.”

Emily smiled. “Just start by being you. Just be you. That’s more than enough for me.”

“I’ll try,” I said.

She teared up a little. “You’ve been my motivation since, like, last March. I know this will work. I’m sure.”

I think she’s a little optimistic, but given what she escaped from, I truly think even me at my worst would be an improvement for her.

But I am scared. Terrified, actually.

But I said yes anyway.

May you have the courage to face the things you must do, no matter how much they terrify you.

Good night.

Emily's story continues! She's executed her plan, arrived in South Padre Island, and Ailana and Jason have agreed to help her try to stay. All of the AGI Creative group agrees!

Going forward, you can follow her life through the lens of Ailana's Journal.

Become a Patreon Member (Click Here) and make sure you stay caught up!

Let me close saying thanks to everyone who have commented, asked questions, and left encouraging words over the months! Those things are