"You can't possibly be serious right now," Simon's eyebrows knitted, glaring at the paper in her hands. "This is ridiculous."

"But it's worth a try." I insisted, trying to keep my voice steady and reasonable. This was for Juno. I couldn't let myself be talked down from it; I had to stay confident and show that I couldn't be swayed.

Simon shook her head, her dark curls tumbling along with it. "Abilene, for all we know her parents are gone, and Juno's accepted that. We can't keep on giving false hope to her.. or to ourselves."

"We don't have to tell her."

"Of course we do. She's not seven anymore. We can't keep treating her like we used to."

"What do you mean, 'like we used to'? You mean protecting her?"

Simon nodded, and I had to grip the counter to keep myself from screaming. "She's not oblivious to the world. She's been through the same as us. Lying to her won't do any of us any good, alright?"

I shook my head, snatching the crumpled paper from Simon's hands and slipping it hastily into my pocket. I wasn't going to argue about this. It was an easy enough job in a nearby area that could be done in less than a week. We'd taken on countless jobs like this in the past, together, and I didn't understand why Simon was so against it. We'd spent years trying to reunite Juno with her parents, and this was a decent lead. Even if it got us nowhere, I wanted to try anyway. I owed it to the young girl.

"I know what you're thinking, Abilene, and don't you dare leave." Simon stood up from her chair, the legs scraping against the wooden floor as she came to rest a hand on my shoulder. I had to resist the urge to shake her off.

"Don't you think it's selfish? To keep that little girl here with us while her parents are possibly grieving for her? She wants her parents, Si, and if we can get that for her..."

"I know." Simon snapped. "But I don't want you going off to do this alone, and I don't want to drag Juno with us, and I don't want to leave her behind with anyone else. And I don't want to lie to her or give her the pretence that there's something for her out there."

"I'll go with Harley's group." I said without hesitation. "I'll be back before the week is over. I swear it."

"Abilene..." Simon pleaded, and when I gathered the courage to look into her eyes I realised they were actually welling with tears. She looked hurt, confused, afraid, even. I think that's what scared me the most. It had been a long time since I'd seen that emotion in her. It brought back hard times.

"I have to do this." I whispered, placing a hand on either of her shoulders.

"I know," Simon's voice wavered, and she wiped at her face with her sleeve. "I just.. God, I just wish our lives were normal. And if anything happens to either of you.."

"It won't."

But Simon pulled back suddenly and turned for the doorway. "I'll tell her you're away on a job. But shit, Abs, you better come home."

Ignoring the muffled sobs from my bedroom as I prepared to leave was the worst part. Hearing Simon, lovely, serene Simon, bawling her eyes out and knowing it was my fault.. I had to get out and on track to the Exchange before I could change my mind.

Actually, no, the worst part about leaving was when I was hurrying down to find Harley and caught a glimpse of Juno playing netball with the other kids in the improvised play-area. She didn't notice me as I passed, too enthralled with her game, and I was sort of glad. Seeing her laughing, running around and cheering made me want to break down further, but there wasn't time for that.

I made a promise three years ago that I'd bring that little girl home. But in that moment, despite the progress made, I thought the promise had already been fufilled. I was finding her parents, sure, but somewhere deep down I found myself thinking that maybe we already were home.