Page 25 of Wicked Promises
Ms. McCaw meets us halfway and puts her finger under my chin, lifting my head and inspecting the bandage. “How do you feel?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. As good as can be expected, I guess.”
“Let’s sit,” she suggests.
I wonder if this is the part where they tell me the accident was too much—that I can’t stay. I’ll get a few minutes to pack my bag. At least Caleb will be here to say goodbye.Again.
“Originally, Riley and her dad were going to stay here.” Lenora’s eyes are puffy from crying. She stretches her arm across the table, taking my hand. “But they’re not approved by the county for any sort of fostering. Including respite. We all thought it wasn’t going to be a problem, but…”
But it is. Respite is temporary housing. Also known as a foster kid’s nightmare. It’s a house you don’t know, with rules you’re unaware of or unfamiliar with, and strangers trying toboss you around. For a day, a week. However long your long-term place is unable to have you. Be that vacation or sickness…
Ms. McCaw takes over. “That wasn’t a possibility, unfortunately. However, the Blacks have been approved to take in fosters.”
My gaze shoots over to Eli’s dad.
“You can stay with us until Robert is out of the hospital,” he says.
Lenora squeezes my hand. “Does that make me a bad mother? Wanting to stay with him?”
I shake my head. “No, of course not.”
“Is that allowed?” Caleb asks. “The detective?—”
“That’s why we wanted to sit down and discuss it,” Ms. McCaw says. “Yes, you’re a person of interest in the case, but everyone here believes that you didn’t have a hand in it.”
My eyes fill with tears. “Lenora? You believe me?”
She hadn’t… “If you say he didn’t do it, then yes. I believe you.”
Caleb scoffs.
Mr. Black rises. “Gather some things, Margo, if you would. I’ve got an early start tomorrow.”
What a whirlwind. Like so many other things in my life, this is happening almost too fast to comprehend.
Accident. Kidnapped. Hospital. Home. And now—Caleb’s home.
I shove clothes into a bag. I don’t know how long I’ll be, so I take only a few items. My school uniform. Toiletries from the bathroom.
Caleb is in my room when I return, sitting on my bed again.
He frowns. “You’re crying.”
I swipe at my cheeks. They’re wet. “I don’t know why.”
And yet, it keeps building. The sadness.
“Mom told me not to tell.” I stare down at my boots. “I promised.”
“I know.”
“I have a history of not keeping my promises, Caleb. How can you believe anything that comes out of my mouth?”
He may be a liar, but so am I.
I was the original.
“I know you,” he says. “Okay? I knowyou. And some promises you won’t break.” He reaches out and snags my wrist, pulling me closer. Between his legs.