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“A sister? That apartment isn’t big enough for one, never mind two people. And one of them a seven-year-old child?”
“I didn’t tell Mr. Thomas this, but I remember the woman, Amadeo. It was a car accident.”
She swallowed and something flickered in her eyes like she was having difficulty maintaining the cool detachment that had earned her the title of Ice Queen.
“You treated her.” It didn’t take a rocket scientist to piece that together.
She nodded curtly. “The patient presented with significant multisystem trauma. Multiple fractures, including bilateral long bone fractures in the lower extremities, rib fractures, a collapsed lung, organ damage. Traumatic brain injury.” She paused, took a shaky breath, then continued. “The immediate cause of death was recorded as hemorrhagic shock resulting from polytrauma.”
She called the woman ‘the patient’ like she was cool and detached, but it didn’t escape my notice that she recalled every detail of the woman’s injuries.
“I don’t often lose patients; it’s difficult to forget those I do.” She still had her hands clasped together behind her back, and her speech was just as prim and proper as ever, but it was clearly a cover, not so different from the straight face I could put on no matter the situation.
“Heidi, this isn’t your fault,” I said, seeing the aloofness for what it was. I reached out my hand toward her, but she leaned away.
“According to Mr. Thomas, he was a straight-A student prior to the accident, even if he did struggle with attendance at times. After his mother’s death, he was forced to take whatever work he could find to support himself and his sister. Even then, it wasn’t enough.”
The kid still has the apartment, and he hasn’t died from starvation. “Enough for what?”
She sighed and dropped her hands like the aloof act was tiring her. “The Administration for Children’s Services were called three weeks ago; they took his sister.”
Ah fuck. And there was a decent chance that was why the kid hadn’t run like I’d told him. Well, didn’t I feel like an asshole. But it still begged the question, “What is it you want me to use my resources to look into?”
She looked at me like the answer was obvious. “Mr. Thomas’ story, of course.”
“Why?” If the story was true, I felt for the kid, but what did that have to do with Heidi?
She looked at me, meeting my gaze head-on, but when her chin tilted up even higher, I had a feeling I wasn’t going to like whatever came out of her mouth next.
“If Mr. Thomas’ story is legitimate, I intend to do whatever is necessary to become a foster parent to Mr. Thomas and his sister.”
“You’re not serious,” I said, shaking my head. I was damned impressed with myself that I’d stopped my jaw from dropping.
I’d never describe Heidi as cold; that prim bitch persona she gave off at times was just a cover and I damn well knew it. But taking on a troubled kid and a seven-year-old little girl who might be just as fucked up?
“Why not?” she asked like what she was suggesting was perfectly reasonable.
I could think of a few reasons right off the top of my head, starting with an adolescent male living under the same roof as Heidi with no protection around. Nope, I didn’t like that one bit.
I cocked an eyebrow at her, waiting for a better explanation.
She stared back at me, weighing me somehow. Her chest deflated after a moment and she nodded.
“Because the foster system is abhorrent, Amadeo. I’m sure there are a plethora of good foster parents, but there are also many who—” She slammed her lips shut.
She wasn’t speaking hypothetically.
“What did they do to you?” I asked, because suddenly, the kid and his problems were about the furthest thing from my mind. My blood was heating up, heading toward a full boil. I had no problem with going on a foster-parent killing spree and taking out any asshole who’d ever laid a hand on her.
She shook her head. “Nothing.”
“What do you mean ‘nothing’?” I think the blood in my veins got confused. Were we all go for murder here or not?
She still had her lips pressed together like she had no intention of letting any more words out.
That wasn’t going to fly here. “If you want my help,perla,you’re going to give me more than that.”
She huffed, and the look she flashed me wasn’t one of those ‘you’re so going to get laid for being such a concerned guy’ kind of looks.
