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“You can’t even say it, but you want to do the same thing to those kids in there.” I swallow my rage. I don’t know why I ever expected anything different. I speak through gritted teeth. “Get on.”
Piper reaches out. Her hand brushes across mine for the briefest of seconds before I jerk it away.
“Get on the bike, Piper. Now. I swear to God, I’ll leave you here.”
“Timofey,” she breathes. “I never would have brought you here if I knew. I’m so sorry.”
That single word—sorry—smashes through the locked box where I shove thoughts about my mother. All of the guilt and anger I don’t have time for explodes out of me in a torrent I don’t expect. It paints a new world on top of the real one. Or rather, an old world. A world I thought I left behind.
Right now, I’m not seeing Piper Quinn, petite and red-headed and naive; I’m seeing a six-foot-tall man with a mustache and a collared shirt. I glare at her, and she shrinks back from the hatred I’m sure she can see written all over my face.
“My mother needed help. She didn’t need someone to take her only reason for living away. She didn’t need yet another reason to give up.”
Piper shakes her head. Tears are welling in her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Timofey. I’m so—”
If my caseworker was standing in front of me right now, I’d kill him. There wouldn’t even be time for him to get an apology out.
But he’s not.
It’s just Piper.
“None of it matters anymore. It’s too fucking late for apologies.”
“I can still be sorry you went through that,” she insists.
I fling an arm towards the shabby duplex in front of us. “You’re sorry, but you’re going to turn around and do it to another kid right now. What happened to me is exactly what is going to happen to Grant and Tiana and Olivia.”
“Maybe. But what will happen to them if they stay?” she asks softly. “What kind of future will they have then?”
“They’ll figure it out. Kids are resilient.”
She shakes her head sadly. “Not always. I’ve seen too many cases where they aren’t. Am I supposed to just hope these kids beat the odds?”
“You’re supposed tohelp. That’s your job. And a dead mom doesn’t help anyone.”
Her arms hang limp at her sides. The fight has drained out of her, but my engine is still revving. I want to hash this out. I want to roar and punch walls and burn this anger out until it’s a simmering heap. I’m not ready to let go of it.
I jab a finger at Piper’s stunned face. “Her death will be on your hands.”
Her brow pinches for a second. I see a flicker of frustration. But it’s lost in a wash of sympathy. She gives me the sad eyes I’ve seen too many times in my life.
“I never would have brought you here if I’d known your history,” she says again. “I’m sorry this was triggering for you. I can’t imagine how you must feel.”
“Don’t pretend like you understand what I feel!” I bellow. “You don’t know me or my life. You and I came from similar circumstances. We were both in the system, but I got out. You opted to become it.”
She lifts her chin, shoulders back. “That is not what happened! I became a social worker so I could—”
“Repeat the mistakes of your predecessors,” I interrupt. “Yeah, I know. I’ve witnessed it.”
She exhales sharply. “I know you’re hurting.”
“I’m not hurting.”
“Your mom’s death must have been traumatic,” she presses on. “But I’m not going to stand here and let you make me out as some storybook villain. I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“I had Officer Rooney look into your past,” I say suddenly.
Confusion settles between her brows. “What does that mean?”
