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I swayed. Until that moment, it almost didn’t seem real, and I hated that Rachel had been forced to handle that horrible task without me.
“Given the circumstances of your mother’s death,” he said solemnly, “I have to ask. Where were you tonight?”
“With my boyfriend, sir.” I gestured at Collin, and his warm, sympathetic eyes met mine. “I’m not underage.”
Refocusing on the cop, I bit down on my lip to stop the trembling.
Truthfully, Iwasunderage. I was lying because I hadn’t considered the possibility of my mother dying before I came of legal age to care for myself and Rachel. Regardless, I wouldn’t let us be shuttled into foster care. No way would I let them separate Rachel and me.
“You’re seventeen.” He narrowed his gaze.
“I’ll be eighteen in just two weeks.” I lifted my chin.
Officer Peterson seemed to give that some consideration. “Yes. However, there are rules.” His lips flattened. “But it’s late. Paperwork and all that can wait until the morning. For right now, I need to make sure you and your sister are secure.”
“We’ll go to my dad’s,” I said quickly, lying again. I had no idea where our father was. We hadn’t seen or heard from him since he took off, and I had no way to contact him.
“Your sister didn’t mention your father.” The cop flipped open a notebook and glanced down at it. As his gaze moved over the paper, I took advantage of his distraction to give my sister and friends a warning look, placing a silencing finger over my mouth.
“My boyfriend has transportation. He can take us to my dad’s place,” I said, offering up another lie.
As Officer Peterson gave me a long searching look, I tried not to squirm.
“Can we go inside the apartment?” I asked. “Me and my sister? To collect some things?”
“Those things upstairs?” he asked, and I nodded. “Sure, but hold on a moment.”
He gestured, and a female officer came over.
“Officer Abbott will escort you. We can’t have you disturbing anything downstairs.”
My gaze widened. “What’s downstairs?”
“It appears to be where she OD’d on heroin. There were a number of witnesses ... people present who witnessed the drug use.” He closed his notebook and tucked it away. “We have a known dealer in custody for questioning, but we need to do everything according to the rule book, dot all the i’s, cross all the t’s and such.”
“Right.” I nodded, hoping my flash of anger didn’t show.
My old lady must have had a big party while we were out. The dealer the cops had in custody was probably Raymond, the creepy bastard.
A sudden thought arose. A bad one.
Considering our financial situation, where had our mother gotten the money for a big party?
“It’s late.” Could the officers hear the tinny panic in my voice? “Can we go inside now?”
“Yes.” Officer Abbott gestured to our apartment.
I beckoned to Rachel. Miranda squeezed her shoulder once, then my sister came toward me. In silence, we followed the female officer.
Inside the apartment, it was a disaster. Trash was strewn everywhere—red Solo cups, empty liquor bottles, cigarette butts. My heart hammered hard as I looked for blood, for some sign of my mother’s demise. But there wasn’t a chalk outline like on television, no crime scene tape over the door. At least, not yet.
Up the stairs we went, then down the hall. My mother’s bedroom door at the end was open. That was unusual, and so was the fact that bright light spilled from it.
“Here we are.” The officer pushed open the door to our room, and I made myself focus.
“Can we have some privacy?” I asked, stepping inside and pulling Rachel with me. “We’d like to gather our things and change clothes.”
“Sure.” She grabbed the door handle. “I’ll be right outside.”
