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“Oh, they are harmless. Just here to keep the peace. You’d be surprised how many kids here like to cause trouble just to get attention. You’re not going to cause any trouble, are you, Ms. Knight?”
“Depends.” I shrug sourly.
“On what?” she presses.
“If I get bored or not.” I flash her all my teeth, but then my smile falls off my face when she starts laughing.
“You are a firecracker, little one.” She laughs.
The way she’s being so nice to me is setting my teeth on edge. I can’t get a read on her. I’m not sure if she’s full of shit or being a hundred percent legit with me. I eye her, taking in anything that will give me any insight on this stranger who is adamant about being my friend all of a sudden. In her late forties, maybe even early fifties, she is well put together. Her strawberry-blonde hair is pulled back into a ponytail, making her hazel eyes stand out. Their hue is just as soft as the expression on her face. Nothing she’s wearing really gives too much away. Wearing a simple white shirt and jeans, she looks like your average soccer mom. The only thing that stands out is the watch on her wrist. It’s a Cartier, which is something that a social worker or guidance counselor could never afford on their salary.
“Nice watch,” I blurt, hoping it will strike a nerve.
“Do you like it?” she coos, twisting her wrist out to me to get a better look. “It was a gift from a boyfriend whose name I can no longer remember.”
“Boyfriend? No husband?” I find myself asking.
She shrugs. “Unfortunately, I don’t have much time to keep one. These kids are my family, and not many men like to be put in second place,” she explains wistfully.
My brows furrow deeper on my forehead, still unable to read this woman. Suddenly, an epiphany hits me, making me ask her another question to see if my suspicions are on the mark.
“Does that mean that you live here with us?”
She lets out another chuckle.
“I’m known for taking my work home, but not to that extent. No, I don’t live here. In fact, I shouldn’t be here at this hour, since I only work here from nine to five. But I knew we were getting a new girl, and I just wanted to meet you on your first day to welcome you into our home.”
Day shift.
She works the day shift.
Fuck.
From what I read in Gray’s file, it’s only some guards in the night shift that are selling off kids to the highest bidder, which means this poor woman is probably completely unaware of the horrors her so-called kids are exposed to when she clocks out and calls it a night.
Feeling sorry for her, I summon my first genuine smile. “Thanks. I didn’t need a welcome wagon, but thanks anyway.”
“Sure thing,” she retorts, getting up from her seat. “Maybe we can talk again tomorrow. Would you like that?”
“Why not? Not like I’m going anywhere soon.”
“We should hope not.” She smiles and goes to rest her hand on my shoulder again, only to swiftly pull back. “Boundaries. Can’t forget those boundaries.” She waves me off before walking out of the room.
I bow my head and stare at my uneaten food.
My job just got a whole lot more messed up.
It would have been simpler to believe that every adult in this place was the devil incarnate, but now that I know that there are actually good people who care and have no inkling of what is really going on here, it makes all of this that much more painful. It means that these kids could have had a shot if there weren’t assholes taking advantage of their vulnerability for an easy buck.
Goddamn it.
Pushing my plate away from me, I cross my arms and tilt my head to the same guard who came to Maeve’s aid.
“I’m done. Can I go?”
He looks around the room at all the kids who are still eating their dinner and then nods at me. Without a second to lose, I take my leave and go upstairs. It’s only when my hand is on the railing that an idea pops into my head. Most of the guards are in the dining room right now, which means the rest of the house is unattended, and it will remain that way maybe for the next ten minutes, so I have to act fast. I rush to the floor where the locked office of whoever runs this perverse circus is and go to my haunches to pick the lock with a bobby pin I shoved in my hair for this very purpose.
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” Gray growls in my earpiece.
