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“I like it here,” Rita finally whispered.
“I do, too. It’s going to take you time to trust that this is a safe place.” Especially if she’d also been hurt. This was not Rita’s first foster placement. Kit knew that much.
“Did it take you a long time?” Rita asked. “To trust?”
“It did.”
“What changed your mind?”
“Pop. After Wren was killed, I found him crying where he thought no one would hear him. That’s when I knew that he was different. It wasn’t immediate, like, no lightning strikes or anything. But it wasn’t long afterward.”
Not entirely true. It had been another whole year and a lot of therapy.
“I’ll try,” Rita said softly.
“That’s all anyone can ask. You want some chicken? Mom’s is the best. And do you see that tall guy over there with the buzz cut? That’s Mateo. He came through the house before I did, but he comes home for Sunday dinner regularly. He’s a chef. Has a little restaurant downtown. His empanadas are so good. Let’s go get some.”
She wasn’t sure if Rita would follow her, but she did. Kit met Harlan’s gaze for the briefest moment while they walked to the picnic table sagging with the weight of all the food Mom and the others had prepared. He gave her a grateful nod and she gave him a smile.
She was glad she’d come home today. She’d needed the comfort. Needed the peace. Needed to feel like she was giving back.
Now, if she could just get rid of the nagging feeling in her gut over Colton Driscoll, life would be just great.
San Diego, California
Monday, April 11, 8:40 a.m.
Sam poked his head into Vivian’s office. She had her leg propped up on an ottoman, her crutches within easy reach.
“I got you a coffee,” he said, holding it out. He’d already guzzled his down, needing the caffeine.
“Oh, thank you.” Looking as worn out as he felt, she gestured to the chair beside her. “Sit down and let me look at you.”
He obeyed and she frowned at the fading bruise on his cheek. “I didn’t know that they hit you.”
“I might have resisted. A little.” She scowled, and he continued. “It looks worse than it is. It barely hurt.”
She rolled her eyes. “Right. What are you going to tell your clients?”
“That I tripped over my dog. I might embellish with a sad tale of the ruined ice cream cone that I dropped when I stumbled.”
Her lips twitched. “You could make it more heroic than that. Say you got hurt by ninjas when you saved a busload of nuns or something.”
“Nuns and orphans,” Sam said lightly, and she chuckled.
“Stick to the ice cream.”
“Will do.” He pointed to her cast. “You’re okay? And Richard, too?”
“We’re fine. Car’s totaled, but it’s just stuff. Car full of teenagers ran a stop sign and T-boned us. Thank the Lord that they’re all safe, too. You look exhausted, Sam. Maybe you should cancel your appointments today.”
“I almost called in today, but I needed to get out of my parents’ apartment.”
She frowned. “Why are you in your parents’ apartment? They released your place from being a crime scene, didn’t they?”
“Yeah, but it’s a mess. They weren’t very tidy when they processed.”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” she muttered, annoyed. “You have to clean all that up?”
