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Nine
Noah Brown wiped his palms off on his jeans, hoping the blond woman driving didn’t see. His hands were sweating again. So were his armpits. He just hoped he didn’t stink too bad.
He hadn’t had a shower in a few days.
He didn’t really know who she was. She’d shown up at the group home where he’d been since his mom’s funeral and demanded to talk to the woman who was his caseworker.
Then they’d been in the office, and there had been yelling. The blond lady had come out and told him he was going with her. To grab his things.
That had been it.
That woman got to decide what happened to him now. And if he made her not like him, the older boys had said as they’d watched, he was screwed.
He’d never see his sister again, either. Tony, the guy he’d had to share a room with, had told him he’d might as well forget ever having a sister as he’d been grabbing his stuff. What hadn’t been stolen, anyway.
Nova was gone.
The state owned him now. And if he didn’t do everything he was told, he’d just go back to kid jail and be forgotten about. Tony had said it, and Chip had agreed with him. Chip was almost eighteen—he’d been in the system a long, long time.
Noah would probably never see Nova again.
He’d heard one guy social worker yelling at Tony yesterday and telling him to stop screwing everything up.
He shot a look at the blond woman driving the big SUV. She said it still smelled new. And it had heated seats. He’d never ridden in a car this nice before.
He was careful not to touch the windows or get fingerprints everywhere.
Sweat prints.
He wasn’t going to do anything to make her mad. He’d asked for water when she’d told him he could have something to drink.
He didn’t want to accidentally spill something in her new car. Then she’d hate him, and things would get horrible. Even more horrible. He didn’t know anything about this woman at all.
“Are you my new social worker?” he asked after about an hour in the car. An actual hour. He fought the panic.
He was probably getting even farther away from his sister now.
“Yep. I sure am.” She sent him a smile that seemed real.
Noah tensed. Tony had said, if they started acting really nice, the social workers were planning something not good.
She didn’t look like she’d be very mean. Noah was almost as big as she was.
He could run away. She probably couldn’t catch him. She’d have to park her car first, and he doubted she’d park it just anywhere. It probably had cost a lot of money and stuff.
He could unlock the door and when they got to a stoplight, he could just…run.
Go back to the city. Maybe see if he could find out where they’d taken Nova, or something. He hadn’t seen her since the funeral when they’d carried her to another car. The other social worker had had him by the shirt. Holding him by the shoulder. Real tight.
His little sister had been crying. Screaming for him. He’d wanted to run to her, but that man’s hand on his shoulder had held him back. Away from her.
Nova was just a little kid.
His eyes burned. He looked out the window as this social worker just kept driving. And talking.
She talked a lot.
Nova had to be so scared right now. She was always scared at night anyway. That was why he tucked her in real tight and left the television on so she wouldn’t feel alone.
