Page 96 of Wicked Games

“Huh?” I blink at my foster dad.

“No, I’m sorry.” He stands and brushes past me. In the hallway, he yells, “Len! Come here, please.” And then he’s back, and he glances at Riley expectantly.

“Right, er, okay. I’ll see you later, Margo.” She pats my shoulder and scurries out.

Robert and I stare at each other. He’s scowling, but it’s not directed at me, exactly. I mean, he’s looking at me but he’s notangryat me. By now, I’ve learned how to tell the difference.

Lenora hurries in and stops short at his expression. Then my worried one.

“What’s wrong?” She reaches out and touches my cheek. “You’re flushed. Are you okay?”

“She doesn’t want to go to college,” Robert bites out.

This is the first time I’ve seen him upset like this.

It scares me.

I shrink away from both of them, rubbing my arms. “So? It won’t be your problem.”

Lenora clucks her tongue and goes to one of the plush chairs in front of Robert’s desk. “Let’s start at the beginning. Sit down, honey. Both of you.”

We do. Robert perches on the edge of his chair behind the desk, and I sink into the one next to Lenora. I guess it’s about time we discuss my plans for the future.

“All I said was, once I’m out of the system, I’ll apply for community housing and get a job.” I pull my leg up to my chest, wrapping my arms around it. It’s safer that way. “I don’t have the money to put myself through college. They require the tax forms filled out ahead of time, so I guess I could take a few classes the following year… I turn eighteen on January twenty-eighth, and then I’m out.”

“Unacceptable,” Robert says. “First of all, you are bright. You have a future ahead of you that I refuse to see you throw away.”

My skin feels too tight. I’ve been avoiding this since I got here—it’s terrible timing to be placed with a new family so close to eighteen. I struggle to take a deep breath and have to flatten my hands on my thighs to stop them from shaking.

“I get it,” I say softly. “You wanted the best for Isabella. But me? Once I leave, I have nothing. I’ll be starting over—again.”

Lenora puts her hand on top of mine. “Don’t leave, then.”

The whole world screeches to a halt.

“What?”

She smiles at me, but it’s tentative. “We want you to stay.”

“Even when you age out,” Robert adds. “And…”

“If you want to go to college, we’re going to support you. We’re not abandoning you the moment you have a birthday.” Lenora reaches out and wipes a tear from my cheek.

I didn’t even realize I was crying, but everything is blurry, and my heartrate is going too fast. I’m still shaking.

There’s a very specific decimation of a child’s hopes when they enter the foster system. The kid I used to be knew my parents would’ve taken me to visit colleges, helped me fill out the form, co-signed on a loan. They would’ve urged me to get a job to help fund it, maybe given me rides or taught me how to drive. It’s not something I actively thought about, it was just there. Existing.

And then Mom abandoned ship and Dad was taken away.

One of the first foster homes I was placed in was horrific. Eight kids, severe rules, no freedom. No friendships. School and home. No dinner if we were bad. The older kids made lunches for the younger ones, tucked us into bed. Everything was spotless and orderly when Ms. McCaw dropped me off, but it was a mask.

I don’t remember their names. I do remember telling on them as soon as she came to check on me. They said I was a worthless liar, and they didn’t wantmeeither.

Another home, and then another. Some were abrupt, only meant for short periods of time. Others were longer. Ms. McCaw was either my saving grace or the devil that I didn’t want to see coming.

She represented change.

Caleb almost destroyed my relationship with the Bryans. And only a few weeks later, they’re asking me to stay…permanently.

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