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She rose from the couch and stepped forward, holding out a manicured hand. “Talia Hildebrand?”
“Parker,” I muttered, shaking her hand slowly. I’d stopped using my grandparents’ last name the minute I got back to Sand Valley. Parker was the surname I’d put on my application for Big Daddy’s and the gas station.
“Hildebrand,” she repeated, a little more firmly. Before I could say anything else, she continued, “I’m Erin Bennett. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Yeah.” I pulled my hand back quickly, grabbing the straps of my backpack and holding on tight. “Sorry, what do you want?”
She gave a small smile, as if she’d expected this kind of suspicion from me, and gestured for me to sit down. When I did, she took a seat on the couch next to me. “I’m a probate lawyer. Do you know what that is?”
I shrugged. “Sort of.”
Her smile became self-deprecating, and she tilted her head slightly. “Well, it really doesn’t matter. What does matter is that I’m here to help you gain access to your trust fund.”
“My… what?”
“The trust your mother set up for you. Charlotte Hildebrand? Before her death, she created a trust, one which you normally wouldn’t gain access to for several more years. But given your”—she glanced around the dingy house, her gaze passing briefly over Mina, who was watching our entire conversation like a hawk—“particular circumstances, I think we’ve got a very good chance of getting a judge to agree to release your fund early. Or at least a part of it.”
“So she’ll get money?” Mina’s thin, sallow face lit with interest, and she sat forward a little. My stomach clenched, but Erin just smiled at her benignly.
“Yes. She will.” The lawyer turned her attention back to me. “I also think there’s a good chance we can get you emancipated, especially if we can prove you’re financially independent.”
I blinked at her as my stomach did a weird sort of dip and sway. The individual words she was saying made sense, but taken together, they were incompressible, impossible to grasp.
“You mean I would… get out of foster care? I’d be able to live on my own?”
“Yes.”
“And I’d have… money?”
“Yes.” She smiled again, the kind of curt business smile that’s meant to keep the conversation moving along. Then she reached into a small leather briefcase that was leaned up against the base of the couch and pulled out a large stack of documents. “Now, if we—”
“I can’t.” The words were scratchy.
She hesitated, her brows drawing together. “What do you mean?”
I licked my lips. “I can’t pay you. I mean, I have a little money saved up from my jobs, but I’m sure it’s not enough. Unless—” A spark of hope lit in my chest. “Do you work on contingency? Do you just take money from my trust fund if we win?”
Her features smoothed out again, and she resumed spreading the forms and documents out on the coffee table. “Oh, no. No need to worry about that. My compensation has already been handled.”
“By who?”
Erin’s hand paused for just a brief second before she laid down the last piece of paper. Then she glanced up at me. “I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to say. My client has asked to remain anonymous. But don’t worry. Any and all fees incurred from my services will go to that party, not to you.”
The knot that had been slowly growing in my stomach cinched tight. “Someone paid you to help me get my money? To emancipate me?”
“That’s right.” She pulled a pen out of her bag and placed it between my numb fingers. “Now, we’ll start the emancipation process right away and file for an expedited decision. In the meantime, we’ll work on freeing up all or part of your inheritance. Unfortunately, that means a bit of paperwork. But don’t worry, I’ll talk you through it.”
Mina pursed her lips, looking like she wished she could throw Erin out on her ass, and heaved herself out of the chair she’d been sitting in. She disappeared into the kitchen, and I could hear her on the phone with CPS a moment later, demanding to speak to someone.
Of course. If I left, she’d lose part of her paycheck.
I glanced through the open kitchen door with concern, but Erin put a hand on my knee, drawing my attention back to her.
“Don’t worry. She can’t stop you from going. That’s what this is all about. If our petitions go through, no one can stop you from leaving.”
Whoever had retained Erin Bennett on my behalf had spared no expense.
She was good. Smart and skilled, almost robotically efficient.
