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Then I came out fighting.
“I wasn’t even here when she claims whatever happened, happened!” I roared. “Did you talk to Squire? I guarantee he’s involved!”
No one cared.
I still had to be questioned.
Interviewed.
Examined.
Questioned again.
What pissed me off the most was that somehow Squire skated out of the whole mess. I had no doubt he had concocted this idiotic plan and encouraged Evie to go through with it. While Evie had been a source of annoyance since I moved into the house, I’d never suspected she was this downright devious.
“For the last time, I didn’t even get to the house until four o’clock,” I explained to my caseworker. Ms. Simpson did not seem pleased she’d been dragged out of her house after hours. I couldn’t blame her, honestly. But I didn’t want her to somehow blame me and block me from getting a job or something.
“Why so late?” she asked, tapping her pencil against her yellow notepad.
“I told you. I have a photography project.”
“So your teacher will confirm that?”
Guilt, because I’d been using the lab as a way to have alone time with Juliet far too often, crowded my conscience. Thankfully, the moral compass I’d developed over the years spun in its own direction. I swallowed hard, but kept my voice and gaze steady. “Yes. Mr. Broom was there supervising.”
Supervising was a bit of a stretch and I hoped to hell he’d back me up if she questioned him.
How fucking embarrassing.
“Ms. Simpson,” Mike finally piped up. “Roman’s been a good resident. Haven’t had a single disciplinary problem with him since he got here. Evie and Sam have had multiple infractions. And I personally spoke to Roman when he came home from school, so I can confirm the time.”
Thank God. I was wondering when Mike planned to speak on my behalf. I guess she saved the best for last, because the scowl on Ms. Simpson’s face, unwrinkled a bit.
“Very well.” She slid her pencil into her briefcase and pulled out a stack of paperwork. “I still need to write up a report and have you both sign statements.”
Great. Not like I had homework or wanted to eat dinner or anything.
“While I have you here, Ms. Simpson.” Mike flashed an apologetic smile that seemed to have the intended effect. “Roman expressed some interest in finding a part-time job after school. I think it would be a benefit to him.” He lowered his voice as if I might be to tender to hear the next part. “I think it would be good for him to get some job experience since he’ll be aging out of care next year.”
She blew out a long breath and stared at me until I wanted to squirm in my seat.
“Your grades are good, Roman,” she finally said. “I was planning to discuss this with you at a later time, but if you continue to do well in school, I might be able to get you into a program that will help you transition out of foster care. Tuition for a state school or trade school would be covered and you’d have a stipend for living expenses as long as you’re enrolled until you turn twenty-one.”
“Really?” I sat up, more interested in the conversation. I’d never heard that before.
“Not many of my clients qualify for it and funding gets slashed every year, but it’s an option I planned to explore for you.”
She glanced at Mike again. “As long as his grades don’t suffer, I’ll sign off on a job. It needs to be appropriate though.”
“Of course. Thank you, Linda.”
Huh. I’d never heard anyone call her by her first name before.
It was still a long night after that. But at least I had a shred of hope to cling to. And for once in my life someone who wielded some power actually believed in me.
By the end of the night, Evie was the one who was sent away. Her banishment didn’t give me much comfort.
What if I wasn’t so lucky the next time?
Twenty-Two
Juliet
Roman didn’t show up to school the next morning. I lingered in the cafeteria. Then waited by our locker before the first bell, but he never showed.
I didn’t see Evie either. Since she was a grade below us, that wasn’t abnormal. Still, the two absences combined after Roman’s strange phone call sent a tremor of fear through my stomach.
Finally, around noon he strolled into the lunchroom and headed straight for me. I jumped out of my chair, knocking it over, drawing everyone’s attention to us.
I didn’t care about making a spectacle of myself. He caught me as I threw my arms around him. “Are you okay?”
“Better now, butterfly,” he murmured against my hair before letting me go.
Kids whistled and commented on our display. To avoid attracting any more attention, we sat down.
“Hey, Romeo,” Vienna said. She’d taken to calling him that a couple of weeks ago and there were no signs she’d drop it any time soon. “So nice of you to roll in here.”
I hadn’t told her about Roman’s phone call last night. It wasn’t my place to discuss his troubles with anyone.
He shrugged it off. “Long night. Did I miss anything good?”
Vienna rattled off a bunch of nonsense about the morning. While he listened, he inched his fingers across the table and took my hand.
“Did you eat?” I asked after Vienna finished her monologue.
“Nah, I’m fine.”
I pushed my apple slices with sunflower butter across the table and he accepted the offering without comment.
“Okay, lovebirds,” Vienna announced. “I have to run down to the office.” She leaned over the back of my chair and planted a loud smooch on my cheek. “See you in a few.”
After she left, Roman switched chairs, claiming her empty seat.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
His expression remained somber. Stoic. Unreadable. “Nothing I can talk about. I did get some good news out of the situation.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“My caseworker’s going to let me get a part-time job and she said I might qualify for a program to go to college where they’ll pay me a small stipend to cover living expenses.”
“Roman, that’s great!” I threw my arms around his neck. Then it hit me—we couldn’t run away and live together any time soon.
“Are you allowed to have a roommate?” I asked.
“I didn’t ask, but probably. I doubt the stipend is enough to live on my own.” He cast a sly look my way. “You know of someone?”
I gave him my own heat-filled stare. “I do. She’s neat and knows how to cook.”
“Works for me. I’m neat and like to eat.”
“Sounds like a perfect match.”
He returned my happy smile and kissed my cheek.
Despite the good news, for the rest of the day his movements remained robotic and his gaze distant. He didn’t speak up in class at all. Not that he was a know-it-all who always raised his hand, but he usually participated at least a little bit.
I wished he could tell me what happened.
On the way home after school, I tried to think of a tactful way to ask.
“You’re quiet today,” Roman said.
“So are you.”
“I’m tired.”
I hesitated, my steps slowing until he stopped. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. You had me worried last night.”
He sighed and looked away. “I’m sorry. I was near a phone and just wanted to hear your voice.”
I waited.
Finally, he relented. “I’m not allowed to talk about it.”
“Oh.” Well, that was better than not wanting to tell me.
He jammed his hands in his pockets and stared at the ground. “I got accused of doing something I didn’t do. Thank fuck we stayed late yesterday.”
“Was it that bad?”
“Could’ve been.”
Frustrated, I felt so helpless to do anything for him.
We kept walking toward my house in silence.
On the corner, my neighbor, Mrs. Shields waved at me.
“Juliet! Sweetheart, can you come here a second?”
