Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 39689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 198(@200wpm)___ 159(@250wpm)___ 132(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 198(@200wpm)___ 159(@250wpm)___ 132(@300wpm)
I rest my boots on the desk. “Mare, you know you’re welcome at my place anytime, and you sure as shit don’t have to pay me.”
A dark possibility floats to the top of my mind: did my sister’s husband do something I’m going to have to dismember him for?
“Was it Kurt?” I ask through clenched teeth. “Did he cheat on you?”
“What? No! Listen, I need to borrow your guest room for a girl who used to be on my roster. She just aged out of the system and doesn’t have anywhere else to go.”
It takes me a second to realize what she’s getting at.
“You want me to take in a foster kid?”
Mary groans the way she always does when she thinks I’m not listening. “She’s not a foster kid anymore, or a kid at all for that matter. She literally turned eighteen yesterday.”
I refrain from pointing out the reality that most eighteen-year-olds barely qualify as adults. “I thought kids could stay in the system until they were twenty-one.”
“They can. She discharged herself.”
“Doesn’t that place her firmly outside your jurisdiction?” I rake a hand through my loose, shoulder-length hair. Most days I wear it back, but I’m pretty sure one or both of my nieces stole my last elastic the last time I had the family over for dinner. “Look Mare, if she doesn’t want to be in the system, then maybe you should let her go.”
“You don’t get it, Jonah. She called me. Getting this girl to say two words is like trying to squeeze water from stone, and she actually called me. I can’t turn my back on her now that she’s finally reaching out.”
I swallow a heavy sigh. My little sister's always had a soft spot for lost and broken things. She thinks she can save the world, whereas I know from experience that you can only save the folks who want to be saved—and even then, there’s no guarantees.
“Don't say you don't have room,” Mary adds quickly. “You're a single guy living in a four-bedroom house. You have plenty of room.”
“Isn’t there a shelter you can send her to?”
“None of the local shelters have beds, and frankly, I don’t want her sleeping in a shelter. I’d let her stay here with us, but I completely forgot the twins are hosting a slumber party this weekend.”
“You mean you’re hosting a slumber party this weekend.”
“Exactly.” There’s a long pause before Mary adds, “She’s pretty, Jonah.”
“Who’s pretty?”
“The girl, Teagan. She’s really pretty. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you what happens to pretty girls who fall through the cracks.”
Yeah. I know exactly what happens to girls like that. And frankly, I wish I didn’t. As a cop, I had a front-row seat to all the ways the streets take advantage of young girls who rely on the quid-pro-quo kindness of strangers. But if this girl is aging out with nowhere to go, then clearly she wasn’t adopted. Mary would argue that she was unlucky, but the fact is, a lot of these kids have a hard time finding homes because of behavioral or substance abuse problems. Often, they end up falling into the same destructive patterns as their parents.
I’ll never stop owing my sister for pulling me back from the ledge after I got shot, but what she’s asking for isn’t just a favor. It’s a risk.
"What's she into?" I ask.
"She doesn't really talk about her hobbies."
"I mean, has she been picked up for drugs, theft, vandalism?"
"She got caught shoplifting lipstick once, a few years ago, but that’s it.”
"Great.” I rub the spot between my eyes, trying to massage away the headache forming there. “I always wanted to come home to a completely empty house."
"She’s not going to walk off with your couch, Jonah!”
“I’m trying to run a business here, Mare. I don’t have time to babysit.”
“I’m not asking you to babysit her. I’m asking you to keep an eye on her for a little while. Maybe even get to know her, if she’ll let you. Who knows, you might actually grow to like her. It could be fun having a roommate.”
"What the hell am I supposed to do for fun with a teenage girl?"
“You’ll figure it out. Heck, it won’t be long until my girls are that age. It’ll be good practice. And Teagan isn’t like most teenagers. She’s quiet.” Mary stops talking, and I can tell by how she’s holding her breath that there’s more she isn’t sharing. "I'm not going to lie to you, there have been a few...incidents."
I lean forward in my chair. "What kind of incidents?"
"You know I can't give you details."
"You want me to let this girl free range in my house all day while I'm at work? I'm gonna need details."
She exhales. "She attacked one of her foster dads. And there was an altercation with her last social worker. He said she stabbed him in the hand with a pen, unprovoked. I think there's more to the story, but the department’s beyond strapped as it is, so the higher-ups decided not to push it."