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“I mean, no pressure.” Sara smiled, her palms in the air. “But I might not be able to sleep tonight if you don’t.”
Moxie picked up her fork, her eyes thoughtful. “You should really have kids. You’re, like, already a mom.”
Sam put her hand over Sara’s and squeezed it, and Jennifer smiled at them from across the table.
“Oh God.” Moxie put down her fork and bit her lip. “I probably just said the total wrong thing. I just meant you’ve been so nice to me and—”
“It wasn’t wrong, not by a long shot.” Sara looked up at Moxie and smiled. “That was actually the perfect thing to say.”
Moxie smiled and ate most of her lasagna in just a few bites. She even picked at her salad before leaning back in her chair and pulling her sleeves down over her hands. Sam picked up her plate and returned with a cold bottle of Coke, which she opened with a flick of her thumb before setting it down.
“So,” Sara said gently. “I think the story you’re telling might be really important. I’d love to hear more whenever you’re ready.”
Moxie nodded, tracing the white outline of the Coca-Cola logo with the tip of her finger. “I guess I started putting it together in my head when the deputy took me to that place on the other side of the lake.” She paused as if choosing her next words one by one. “But it wasn’t a normal house, you know? Something just felt off. Like, it was right out of Hollywood or something.”
Sara nodded. “Was that supposed to be your new foster placement?”
“I mean, I guess. But that place was huge, with, like, people who worked there and stuff. Not even close to a normal house.”
“Had your social worker told you anything about the placement?” Murphy’s voice was gentle. “Like who your foster parents would be?”
Moxie shook her head. “This was the fourth placement she’d put me in. She never told me anything about the ones before, so that wasn’t a surprise, but each was worse than the last. It was like she was looking for ways to make me miserable or something.” She took a sip of Coke and set it back down, her eyes on the table. “I mean, I never did anything to her. I don’t know why she sent me to such bad places.”
Sam nodded, tapping her thumb silently on the table as she spoke. “How long have you been in the system?”
“Since my mom went to prison two years ago, and she’ll be there for the next forty years before she’s even eligible for parole, so she lost custody, and the judge says I belong to the state now. She was my only family, so I got sent to a group home first, then my social worker got assigned to me and kept moving me around.”
“I get it.” Murphy’s words were soft, as if he wanted Moxie to know they wouldn’t hurt her in a world where everything else had sharp edges. “So life went to shit, and you’ve pretty much been alone since, huh?”
“Yeah.” Moxie looked up and let out a wavering breath, as if she’d been holding it the whole time. “That’s exactly it.”
“You mentioned that you ‘started putting it together’ when you got sent to the fancy house in McCall.” Sam leaned forward, catching Murphy’s eye. “What did you mean by that? What started to come together?”
“I don’t know how to describe it.” Moxie pulled her glasses out of the front pocket of her hoodie and put them on, the overhead light glinting off a vertical crack spanning the entire left lens. “Maybe it’s just a coincidence, and I’m not trying to get anyone in trouble, except…”
Sam cut in when she faltered. “Except you’re starting to realize it isn’t a coincidence?”
“It’s not.” Moxie’s jaw flexed, and her gaze was steady as she looked back at Sam. “I know it’s not.”
Murphy cracked his knuckles loud enough to make her laugh and smiled warmly at her. “I’d bet a stack of money Moxie’s smarter than me, so I’m going to need someone to explain what you guys are talking about. Take me back to the beginning.”
“That’s the thing. I don’t know.” Moxie took another sip of Coke, then pushed it slowly away with the tip of her finger. “I think my social worker knew my placements weren’t safe, but I got sent there anyway. She always told me I just needed to blend in and not cause trouble, to just ‘do whatever they say, and you’ll be fine.’”
“I can’t imagine she had much luck with that.” Sam tried to suppress a laugh and almost choked on her cookie. “She’s met you, right?”
“Exactly.” Moxie’s smile was like a sudden flash of sunlight. “So it all started to come together when I walked into that big fancy house and talked to the rich guy who lived there. The woman who answered the door just looked me up and down for a long time, then took us upstairs to his office, and right away, I knew something wasn’t right.”
Murphy leaned forward on his elbow. “What tipped you off?”
“Well, I could tell the rich guy and the deputy knew each other already because the deputy called him Travis, and they were both just staring at me and not saying much.” She paused, shoving her hands back into the front pocket of her hoodie, her jaw tense. “So I asked to go to the bathroom, just to get a minute to think. On the way there, I passed this huge window that overlooked the pool, and there were a bunch of girls just lying out by the pool, some in bikinis, some topless.” She paused. “No boys. Just girls.”
Sara’s phone rang, and everyone jumped. Sara excused herself to take it as Moxie went on.
“So anyway, the whole situation was just so weird that I never did go to the bathroom. I just went back to the office and stopped at the door. I hadn’t closed it all the way, so I just stood there and listened to them talking.”
Murphy and Sam leaned forward. “Could you hear what they were saying?”
“Yeah, unfortunately.” Moxie paused, then lifted her chin before she went on. “Something about me looking like a boy. And the guy said my skin was too dark for something.”
