I let out a deep breath. “Understood, sir.”
“I’ll let the others know about this wrinkle, and we’ll decide how you are to proceed.”
I nodded until I realized he wasn’t able to see the gesture. “Thank you, sir.”
He didn’t respond but rather ended the call.
I took a deep breath, thankful everything had gone as well as it had. That alone should have lightened my mood, but it didn’t. I couldn’t stop thinking about Piers and how similar he was to the boy I first met, as opposed to the one who had left me, and who I’d had a part in tracking all these years.
And I still felt it strange that he acted like nothing had changed between us since the day he left. Even if he wasn’t aware that I knew the truth about how and why he left, I still would have thought he’d act a bit uncomfortable.
I walked into my living room and sat on the couch. I should put something together for dinner, but between the coffee with Piers and the stress of dreading the phone call, I wasn’t hungry.
Instead I let myself drift back to the day Piers left me.
The two of us had been living in a group home. Though there were always upward of twelve kids with us at any given time, Piers and I kept mostly to ourselves. I’d had to stay after school that day for tutoring. I hated math and refused to let Piers help me. He excelled in everything, of course, and I didn’t want him to think less of me because I struggled with something that came so easily to him. He’d never do such a thing, but I’d still rather stay after for tutoring.
I’d had to walk home after tutoring, and as I made my way down the street where the group home was, my stomach began to ache. Not the type of ache that followed a meal not settling right, but the kind warning you something wasn’t right.
The ache intensified when I walked inside. Normally, Piers would be in the big room downstairs waiting for me, just as I’d be in the same spot waiting for him if the roles were reversed. I looked around, which was kind of stupid because at thirteen, he already towered over almost everyone. It wasn’t as if he could hide very well.
Ms. Schmidt, the housekeeper, walked by as I stood there. She saw me, and I noticed she had the weirdest expression covering her face. Ninety-nine percent of the time, she either looked mad or irritated, and I’m pretty sure my mouth nearly hit the floor before I could stop it.
Before either of us could say anything, a door to the side of the big room opened, and Mr. Carlton Newsome, the group home director, walked in. I didn’t like him and tried my best to stay as far away from him as possible. It was strange for him to be seen out and about so early. Usually it was well after six before he’d grace us with his presence.
“There you are,” he said when he saw me. “I just got off the phone with the school. They said you were walking back.”
He’d called the school because I was late getting home today? I couldn’t think of why he’d care. He never had before.
“Come into my office. We need to talk,” he said at my silence.
I couldn’t for the life of me come up with one reason that would be the case, but I followed him anyway. To get to his office, we had to pass the kitchen. As normal, several of the house’s residents were sitting at the large table the room boasted, doing homework. They all stopped what they were doing to watch as I went by with Mr. Newsome. On a normal day, I’d have stuck my tongue out at them, but with every step I took closer to the office, the thought that something was really, really wrong only increased, as did the ache in my stomach.
I didn’t see Piers anywhere.
For a split second, I thought about running off. I didn’t know where I’d run to, but at the moment, any place was better than my current location.
As if he could read my thoughts, Mr. Newsome’s hand came down to rest on my nape. I schooled myself not to flinch, but I must have made some sort of noise because the fingers at my neck tightened.
Damn. That was going to leave a bruise.
He all but tossed me into his office, pointing at a ratty chair. “Sit down and don’t move.”
I sat.
Mr. Newsome kept his eyes on me but said nothing until he took his own place behind the large wooden desk. “I’ll get right to the point. Piers Worthington is no longer a resident here.”
“What?”
“He left a little over an hour ago. Said he’d been offered a scholarship or something at some fancy school.”
I knew about the offer. He’d told me as soon as the letter arrived, but he’d also told me he wouldn’t accept unless he could work out some way for me to go as well. I’d filled out an application at the same school for my own scholarship. The last time we’d talked about it, he said all the details were almost all in place, and decisions would be out soon.
I tilted my head, knowing I couldn’t have heard correctly. “What about me?”
Mr. Newsome raised an eyebrow. “What about you?”
“Piers said nothing about me going?” I felt like a little kid asking, but I had to. Even as the question left my mouth, dread and fear joined the ache in my stomach.
“Go with him?” Mr. Newsome laughed. “You? You who has to stay late at the school you’re at because you’re so stupid you can’t do simple math? No, your name wasn’t brought up once in the conversation. He actually said he was ready to go somewhere new and start over. Said it’d be nice to lose the baggage of his past.”
The baggage of his past.
He could only mean me. My stomach revolted, not wanting to believe what Mr. Newsome said. Or maybe deep inside part of me knew it had happened exactly that way.
I turned and ran to the closest bathroom. When my stomach was empty, I sat on the cold stone floor, unable to find the energy to stand.
Piers didn’t want me. He’d left without me, and he’d left me here alone. How could I live without him?
I shook my head at the weak girl I had been. I might have thought I didn’t know how to live without Piers, but I soon learned. Never forgotten, though, was how it felt to know the world as I knew it had been leveled.
Remembering the past along with that hopeless feeling reminded me of what my purpose here was. To ensure Piers felt the same things and to know that I’d been the one to level him.
Chapter 6
Piers
Bri sounded somewhat off when I called her later that night after I finally made it home from the police station. I didn’t think she’d be the type of woman to get angry or pout because I had to break a date in order to help someone in need, but you never could tell. It probably didn’t help that I hadn’t had time to explain why a foster mom would call me in the first place.
But no matter. She agreed to meet me for dinner the next night, and frankly, that was all I cared about at the moment. She asked if we should plan to meet up in the lobby of her building. It made sense why she would ask. It was the building she worked in, and she probably assumed I did as well since she had spotted me coming out of the elevator.
Even though I had no plans to visit either Mia or Tenor anytime soon, and though the office I worked out of most of the time was located across town, I agreed. After all, what was dealing with congested traffic when compared to sitting down and having dinner with the woman who left me years ago when we were both kids?