The streetlight outside illuminated the room. Sophie slept on her back, her mouth open, as tunes from her phone blared in her ears. Relieved, Libby put her stuff away and climbed into the lumpy bed.

Two close calls in one night; she wished she had the guts to run away, but there was nowhere to go. Michael told her plenty of kids ran away, and the authorities were too backlogged to care or go after them. She asked why kids stayed; he said most stayed either to pay their dues for their crimes or because it was a warm bed and three meals a day.

For Michael, she believed he lived a safer life here than on the streets.

She fell asleep wishing she and Peter had run away together when he first suggested it.

“Peter?”

“Yeah, Mom.” He walked to the side of the stage, eager to avoid the sound check.

“Let’s go talk in the dressing room.”

Peter instantly knew it was about Libby. “What? You found her? Where is she?” His heart beat with excitement.

“It’s a long story.”

“Tell me,” he said, desperate for news.

His mom glanced around. Peter followed her gaze. Adam and Garrett watched from their spots on stage. Crew members littered the arena, securing equipment and completing final security checks.

“I’m sorry. This is not the news I’d hoped to give.” She gazed at him with love and sadness.

“What? What’d you find out?” Peter demanded.

“We tried to find her, but she’s gone, honey. I’m so sorry.”

“What do you mean gone? Gone where?” He didn’t understand.

“We don’t know.” She tried to soothe him with words. “The authorities arrested her aunt for selling drugs. Theycouldn’t locate Libby’s father, so they placed her in foster care.”

His mom watched him closely. For once, his brothers stayed silent. Not a sound echoed in the arena as the crew looked on.

“How could they do that to her?” He shoved his hands through his hair and locked his fingers above his head, turning away to hide the anguish in his eyes.

“She tried to call you,” she added.

Peter turned back to her, hoping for better news, as he fought back emotions. Please let it be with a message of where she was.

“Several times.” His mom fumbled with some crumpled slips of paper. “The front office took these. They’re dated a couple days after her aunt was arrested.”

“And? What do they say?” He snatched them out of her hand.

“We called the number, Peter. It belonged to a pay phone at a mall in Milwaukee.”

As the bad news continued, Peter stood paralyzed. His eyes became glassy as he read each message.

“Libby must have waited for hours. The last message said she was sorry.” His mother spoke softly. “I can’t imagine why. The poor girl never did anything wrong.”

“Can they find her? There must be a record?” Peter’s voice broke; he turned away, his chest heaving with each breath. He tried to hold back his emotions.

“We tried. They won’t release the information. She’s aminor and under custody of the state. It’s the law.”

“This is shit!” he snapped, as his anger overpowered his pain. “Libby’s supposed to be at home with her family enjoying life, not locked up in the foster system.” Peter paced. “She’s too sweet and good.” He turned to his mom, tears rolling down his face. “She has no one, Mom, no one.” His words fell to a whisper. “I’m it. I was all she had and now she thinks I abandoned her, too!”

He paced like a caged animal, his jaw set. He stopped at the side of the monstrous speakers and pounded them with both fists. A mournful groan roared from him, startling the many who watched. He braced his head on the speakers, trying to keep control. His arms shook with rage.

All he could feel was the cutting pain of a broken heart.