Page 131 of A Foster Fling

“I don’t ever lie to you, Sayler. Ever!” The rage he exuded was like none I had ever seen and I wanted to crawl away.

“I’m not lying.” Why then of all times, I started to cry, I’ll never know.

It’s what gave me away.

Chapter Nine

IT’S NOT THE COAL OF HIS FEATHERS, OR THE SOOT OF HIS SOUL, BUT THE WORDS FROM HIS LIPS THAT WHISPER ‘NO MORE’.

“Even Wendell saw how sick in the head she was. You always assumed she worked there. Everyone did. It was another secret they all had with each other. That foster home didn’t start with us, and it didn’t end with us either.”

“What the hell does that mean? All of its gone, they’re all dead. I got that part right. I got that right; don’t you dare take that away.” No matter what confidence I’ve had all these years, he just crushed it.

If he’s proven anything to me, it’s that he’s never lied. He’s been the truest north I’ve ever encountered. A glaring star when I just want to be lost.

“You didn’t stay.” He shrugs in the saddest way. “I was there Sayler. I- I had to help identify the bodies. Lukas wasn’t there. I told them he started the fire, that maybe he had taken you. You didn’t want to take me with you, but I needed you to be safe. You and Cae. You made your own family. My mistake was thinking I was a part of it.”

“That’s not-“

“They didn’t find him.” He glares and cuts me off when I try to make my excuses. “They didn’t find him, but Idid. He’s alive, Sayler. He’s started from scratch, but this time? The kids don’t leave. Not one time. Know what else is different? He’s got a baby this time.”

“No.” My stomach churns as my mind reels with all the terrible things that could be happening there. “How? I mean- that detective never said anything. He never said Lukas was alive, or you. Why wouldn’t he tell me?” Plenty of reasons.

Primarily? I’d confess to killing him. Caerus sat clueless on the other side of the wall while I tried to ensure punishment for my crime. What that detective did with what I told him? Eludes me. I didn’t serve even one minute in a jail cell. Never even faced charges for the fire. I spent a year with a nice enough family until they helped me emancipate myself and then first chance I got I moved in with Cae.

“Me? I told him not to tell you. Everything else? You were checked out over half of your interview and you weren’t making any sense. It went unsaid, but everyone agreed it was better you didn’t know. You kept asking when your mom was picking you up.” He tries not to cringe knowing that my mother was dead long before I got to the Healing House.

“I don’t remember that.” My throat closes with the familiar sadness.

I was seven when she died and she went with a promise on her blue lips that I would be safe. She was wrong, so fucking wrong. Never has a promise been more broken.

“How did you get there, Sayler? Caerus told me you had parents, good parents.” I can tell he’s just distracted by his curiosity; information has never been turned away from his collections.

“They were beautiful parents. Just not together. Amazing to me, awful to each other. When my dad went missing…” A dry laugh leaves me. “Well, mom just had to get sick on top of it. Distant family was supposed to take me in. They never showed up.”

He shifts back angrily and crosses his arms.

“No one even came to say goodbye to her? Why not? Why didn’t they come?” Wrath coats the room and he sneers the question I’ve asked the clouds a hundred times.

“The hospital waited as long as they could. I couldn't sleep there forever. The night CPS came, I heard the desk nurse on the phone ‘I don't care much for your tone ma'am but if you can get right with deserting an innocent child because of a grudge well, to hell with you. First class.’ then she slammed that phone down so hard it cracked.” I can't help but chuckle “I knew it meant no one was coming for me.”

“Did anyone tell you why?”

“I have suspicions. My mom was adopted and dads family never liked her. I'm sure they didn't want the reminder. They also thought, think, she had something to do with his disappearance.”

“My mom left me on the beach because I was being too loud.” He whispers as though she'll hear him even now.

“Is that why you're so quiet?” I ask sadly.

“No.” He snorts. “I found a police officer and told him why she'd left me there. He took it upon himself to teach me how to be quiet. By drowning me over and over again.”

The imagery is so distinct, a music box primed to play beautiful music, plunged into damaging waves never to make sound again.

“A fucking cop?” Acid builds in the back of my throat trying to fight back vomit.

“Not a cop.” He smiles sadly. “I was ten, and it was Wendell. He'd been playing dress up on the beach all day. I never stood a chance.”

“The idea of him in a uniform should be funny, but Jesus, can you imagine what he got away with?”Before you killed him? I can’t say the words out loud because even know I don’t know if he did.

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