Chapter One
“She’s acting out due to grief.”
“This is a cry for help.”
“Don’t give up on her yet.”
I sigh as I sit outside my case worker’s office, listening as she lies to my most recent foster parents.
“She hit another student.”
“She’s violent.”
“We cannot have her in our home with our child.”
I snort. Their precious child is a douchebag who’s selling dime bags for the local drug dealer. He’s out partying every night with them while his parents think he’s studying with his friends. Yet I’m the dangerous one for punching a bitch after she swung on me first.
“Thank you for coming by and speaking with me,” Mrs. White says as she escorts Mr. and Mrs. Richmond out.
“Of course. Sorry we couldn’t be more help.” Mr. Richmond walks by without looking in my direction.
“We look forward to your next call, Sylvia.” Mrs. Richmond shoots a glare my way before following her husband down the hall.
“What am I going to do with you, Sage?” I look up to find Mrs. White shaking her head. “Come in. Let’s have a little chat.”
I follow her into her office and flop down in the chair in front of her desk.
“It wasn’t my fault, you know. She made the first move. Am I not supposed to defend myself?”
She drops her head into her hands and lets out a heavy breath.
“I’m not saying you shouldn’t defend yourself, but violence should never be the answer.” She looks up at me. “You can’t keep this chip on your shoulder forever.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m so sorry your mother died. I truly am, but you cannot keep blaming the world. The Richmonds were good people. You could have had a good life until you aged out. Now I’m not sure what we’re going to do with you.”
I swallow hard. The Richmonds weren’t the worst foster parents I’ve had. No, that award goes to Michael Chester, or Chester the Molester, as I prefer to call him. He was a creep with a capital C. I only stayed there two days before I kneed him in the balls for trying to sneak into my room in the middle of the night. Of course, he claimed he was checking on me, but he and I both know the truth.
“What now?” I ask, not really caring where they put me next. I only have eight months until I turn eighteen. I just need to stick it out until then.
“I need to make some calls. Sit outside my office until I can figure out what to do with you.”
“Sure thing, boss.” I stand and salute her before doing as she asks.
∞∞∞
“Good news.” Mrs. White’s voice comes from out of nowhere, making me jump.
“Holy shit! Don’t do that to me.” I clutch my chest, comforting my pounding heart.
Mrs. White scowls. “Language, young lady. Come on in and I’ll explain your new living arrangements.”
I find myself sitting in the same chair as before, waiting for her to reveal my fate.
“Did your mom ever talk to you about her sister?”
I narrow my eyes at Mrs. White. “Occasionally she would talk about her childhood and mentioned a sister once or twice, but I’ve never met her.”
Truth is, before my mom died, she never really talked about anyone in her family much. I preferred to believe they were all dead and it was too painful for her to talk about. Obviously, I was wrong.
“Well, thankfully we found her through our family finding program. They’ve been looking for a relative for six months, since your mother’s death, to find you a permanent home. After speaking with your aunt Alice, we feel it would be the best placement for you.”
The laugh that comes out of my mouth lacks humor. “Of course you do. I mean, what’s one more stranger? I don’t know why you don’t just place me in a group home again.” I lean back, feigning boredom.
Mrs. White stands up and walks around the desk, leaning against it close to where I’m sitting.
“Listen, Sage. You’re a good kid. Your mom raised you well. I know you’re angry at the world. You lost the most important person in your life. You’re allowed to feel those feelings. Anger, grief, sadness, emptiness. Those are all normal. However, your actions are within your control. You need to get a grip on those emotions and funnel them into something more productive. We both know you don’t want to go to a group home. This aunt could be just what you need.” I go to speak, but she holds her hand up, cutting me off. “Even if she’s not, you’ll only need to stick it out for eight more months. Do you think you can keep it together that long?”
“I guess I have no choice. When is this Aunt Alice getting here?”
“She’s flying in now, should be here by this evening. For now, just keep hanging out. Do you have any questions?”
“Where is she flying in from?”
“Chicago.”
My jaw drops. “Illinois? I’m leaving the state? Are you even allowed to do that?”
Mrs. White gives me her best dramatic eye roll. “She passed all the home studies, background checks, classes, and interviews. This has been in the works for weeks. We were waiting on some final paperwork, but your latest stunt seems to have sped the process up. The next step would have been visitation, but since the group homes are full and you’ve cycled through five foster families in the last six months, the judge agreed that it would be best if we allowed you to go home with her now.”
“Joy. Another choice taken away from me.”
“I know it feels that way now, but you’ll see. This will be for the best.”
∞∞∞
Alice Davenport is rich. No, not just rich, filthy rich. After meeting with my case worker and signing a bunch of paperwork, Alice ushered me into a waiting town car with its own driver. After forty-five minutes in the car, we arrived at a small airfield. When I asked her whose jet we were boarding, she laughed and said our family’s.
Now I’m sitting here sipping on expensive water the attendant brought me while flying back to Bridgeton, Illinois, where she’s from.
“I have you set up to start school on Monday. I thought it would give you some time to settle in. It’s the beginning of the year, so you shouldn’t miss much.”
I flick my gaze to hers. I was so lost in my thoughts, I didn’t even realize she’d put her phone down.
“Can’t I start tomorrow?” I ask.
She frowns. “I suppose, but don’t you want time to settle into your room?”
I snort. “You mean your guest bedroom?”
She sighs. “It’s your room. Even if you decide to leave, it will always be your room. It will always be there for you.”
“I don’t want it. Let’s be clear here. I’m only here because the caseworker had nowhere else to put me. Once I turn eighteen, I’m out. You’ll never have to see me again.”
I’m surprised by the look of hurt that crosses her face. “I don’t want that, Sage.”
“Well, I didn’t want my mother to die and leave me all alone, but life has a funny way of not giving a fuck what we want, now, doesn’t it?”