Page 10 of Fighting the Odds

Sierra

Please let Sam be okay!

I barely was able to give her a hug before they separated us yesterday when we got to the Social Services building. She went with a lady who greeted us there and I went with Mrs. Jenkins, who took me to a nice foster home, telling me she’d be back to get me. She made sure to let me know it was just an emergency temporary placement until today.

I tossed and turned all night, worrying over Sam and whether she was being treated okay. Did she even understand what was going on? Mrs. Jenkins wouldn’t tell me why we couldn’t go to the same place.

Several questions cross my mind as I step inside her office, but at the top currently is who turned us in. It’s not very homey for an office. It’s where she spends at least eight hours of her day, you’d expect more of her here.

Her desk is piled high with files and a lone picture. It’s turned the other way, so I can’t see who’s in it. The walls are bare except for her degree from college and a piece of art she probably bought at a discount store. It’s of a broken down farmhouse with an older man and woman standing in front of it with a pitchfork in each of their hands.

She gestures for me to take a seat in the black leather chair as she moves behind the desk and sits down. She opens the file in her hand and begins looking through the papers.

“Sierra, we’re looking for your aunt. Do you care to tell me what happened to you?”

“I told you already, I’ve been sick with the flu. I got lightheaded and fell. That’s it. Where’s Sam?” She is the only person I care about.

“She’s with my colleague. Now, who did this to you?” She places the folder down before leaning back in her chair.

“No one. I’ve told you that. Can I see Sam?” I need to put my arms around her, to hear her sweet voice as she calls me Ci Ci. Until I do, I’m only going to think the worst.

“I’m sorry, but until we finish our investigation, that won’t be happening. Both of you are being placed in separate temporary emergency foster homes until we can find your aunt. We will bring you back here tomorrow so we can finish this conversation. I suggest you take tonight to think about whether or not you want to keep up this act.” She picks up her phone and dials a number as my body shakes. I’m so upset and I wish my mom was here.

“Hello, Linda. This is Mrs. Jenkins with Carlson Child Protective Services.”

Unfortunately, she doesn’t have the call on speakerphone, so I only get a one-sided conversation.

“I’m good. Thank you for asking. We have someone we need to place in your home, and I see you have an opening.”

Mrs. Jenkins looks up and smiles. How can she fucking smile when she’s keeping me from my sister?

“Yes, she’s seventeen.” She goes quiet, listening to whoever is on the other side. The silence is so deafening you could hear a pin drop.

I pick at the hem of my shirt as I wonder what the hell happened. Who called CPS? Most importantly, why? Is Sam being asked the same questions? Has she told the truth? Losing her is not in my plans . Not even two months from now, and she would have been mine.

“Yes, there is an ongoing investigation. She turns eighteen in a couple of months, so if needed, could you extend your temporary care?”

What!? No, I need to be home with Sam!

My heart rate speeds up as sweat beads on my forehead. I feel lightheaded. Tears stream down my cheeks and I swipe my hand angrily across them.

“Amazing, thank you so much. We will be there within the hour.” Mrs. Jenkins hangs up the phone, then takes some tissues from the container and hands them to me.

I wipe my eyes, then blow my nose before balling the tissue up in my hand.

“Okay then, let’s go.” She stands from her chair, picking up the file again along with her purse.

“Is Sam going to a foster home, too?” I ask, wondering if maybe Mrs. Butler was contacted to see if she could take her. I really hope I misunderstood when she said we wouldn’t be going to the same home.

“Yes, she is. And like I said before, you won’t be going to the same one.” Instantly it feels like I’ve been punched in the stomach and my breath whooshes out of me.

“But why?” My voice catches as I hold back the sob threatening to break free. Why are they doing this to us? I try to pull in a deep breath, but it’s like my lungs don’t want to work, my chest is so heavy.

“Sierra. I’ve already explained this to you. I don’t intend to keep doing it over and over. I’m very sorry, but this is how it has to be,” she says coldly.

As we step out of her office, my eyes scan the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. But nothing. When we reach Mrs. Jenkins' car with no sight of Sam, I know my chance is gone. We’re not going to the same place, and until they talk to Sarah, I’m not going to be able to talk to her.

Here I am, once again, sitting in Mrs. Jenkins’ office. It’s one in the afternoon and all I can think about is Sam. I don’t care if she told them I’ve been taking care of us or how Sarah treats us. All I need is for her to be okay. The home they placed me in is alright, I guess. Linda is nice enough. She didn’t try to pry, just simply let me be.

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