I Found My Neighbors…

I frowned and tried again. The bin was far too heavy to be empty. My first thought was that the collectors had missed a bag. Then something shifted inside, followed by the faintest sniffle.

I stopped breathing for a second. A raccoon would have scratched. A cat would have cried out. This sound was smaller and carefully restrained, as if whatever was inside was trying not to be heard.

‘Hello?’ I called softly.

No answer came, but the rustling stopped.

I raised the lid slowly. Two little girls were folded into the bottom of the bin, pressed close together beneath the pale morning light. They had matching dark curls, round cheeks, and enormous brown eyes. One wore a faded yellow shirt with a butterfly on it. The other wore pink, with two socks that did not match.

They stared up at me in complete silence. Their knees were dusty, one small hand was wrapped tightly around the other’s wrist, and neither child looked old enough to be outside alone.

For one hopeful moment, I tried to believe they were playing. I forced a gentle smile and said, ‘This is a terrible place for hide-and-seek. Let’s find somewhere cleaner before you both smell like yesterday’s dinner.’

Neither girl laughed.

The child in yellow glanced toward the house next door. Her sister’s mouth began to tremble.

‘We aren’t playing,’ the first girl whispered. ‘We had to hide.’

I lowered the lid just enough to block the view from the neighboring windows while leaving plenty of air. My heartbeat had begun to pound against my ribs.

‘Who are you hiding from?’ I asked.

The girl in pink pressed herself closer to her sister. The other raised one finger to her lips, then whispered, ‘Please don’t send us back. Please don’t tell him we’re here.’

Every instinct told me that whatever was happening was far beyond a children’s game. I crouched beside the bin and kept my voice calm. ‘I won’t take you to that house. But you cannot stay in here. Would you come inside my home, where the door locks?’

The twins looked at one another with a seriousness that no toddler should have needed. At last, the girl in yellow lifted both arms toward me.

She weighed almost nothing. I set her on the pavement, then lifted her sister. The moment both girls were standing, they wrapped themselves around my legs. Their fingers shook against the denim of my jeans.

‘I’m Carla,’ I told them. ‘Can you tell me your names?’