I WATCHED THE SUN COME up with gritty eyes through a dirty, wire crossed window. Many, many hours past sunrise an officer finally came for me. Surprised and relieved, I eagerly followed her out only to be disappointed by being led into what looked like an interrogation room. At the plain, cheap table sat an older woman in a poor fitting suit. She didn’t look up as I came in, just kept shuffling through all the papers spilling out of her plastic briefcase. I sat down as instructed and waited for her to look up. I realized she was the social worker from the hospital.
Finally she asked, “Bixby Gray?” She still didn’t look up.
“Yes,” I said nervously.
She rattled off my address, phone number, social security number and birthday. “Correct?”
“Yes,” I said again. “Did you get a hold of my dad?”
“I did not. As I’m sure you are aware, he isn’t home.”
Not sure how to answer that, I just nodded.
“Speaking with his dispatcher, I learned he is quite often not at home.”
A little ball of dread formed itself low in my stomach. “He’s a truck driver,” I told her, hoping that would somehow be okay.
“There is another minor in the home?” she asked. “Lincoln Gray?”
I nodded.
“And where is he?”
“I’m … I’m not sure.”
“Please do not waste my time with lies,” she snapped.
“I’m not lying,” I protested. “He’s been having a really bad time, after the accident and all. I don’t know where he’s at.
Finally the woman looked up at me and the little smirk on her face was ugly. “I understand you want to protect your brother, but he will be found.”
“Protect him from what?” I asked, confused. “Linc didn’t do anything wrong. And I really didn’t either.”
“Not according the police report. And even if your brother didn’t do anything wrong, he is still an unsupervised minor, and we can’t have that.”
“We’re not unsupervised,” I said weakly.
“And what adult is caring for you while your father is on the road”—she scanned a paper in front of her—”twenty-five to twenty-seven days of the month? Your addled grandmother?”
“Have you heard anything about my grandma?” I asked.
“I have,” she replied, snapping her glasses off her face. “She’s incredibly sick. She has a urinary tract infection so severe it has impacted her kidneys.”
“A bladder infection?”
“Yes,” she confirmed. “In the elderly, especially in the demented elderly, they can cause outlandish behaviors, which you would have known to look for if you were a responsible adult.”
That stung. “I’m doing the best I can.”
Her face softened a little. “I’m sure you are. And I’m not saying you’re not responsible, just that you’re not an adult, which is why I’m here to help make sure you get the supervision and guidance you need.”
I smiled a little at that. “I don’t think you’ll be able to convince my dad to get a different job and be home all the time.”
“Your dad? Oh no, he can’t be trusted to comply. His dispatcher already confirmed this has been going on for years. Years! No, I have a wonderful foster home lined up for you; they have another girl your age.”
I looked at her blankly for a minute then laughed. “I’m sorry, you’re joking right? I don’t need a foster home, I have a family.”
“You have an irresponsible father and a grandmother you can’t properly take care of. It will be much better for you in a stable environment. And chances are, if your father’s willing to change, you would be returned.”
“After how long?” I could not believe what I was hearing.
“A few months at the most,” she said in what she must have thought was a reassuring manner.
I almost threw up all over the table. “That’s just not possible. What about my Grandma? Who would take care of her?”
Sophie scanned her paper work again. “She should be released from the hospital in the next day or two, and then will be transferred over to Meadow Haven. I understand they have a locked dementia ward.”
“A nursing home?” I practically shrieked. “No, no, no, she would hate it there!”
“Don’t be silly,” she said condescendingly. “She probably won’t even notice.”
I gritted my teeth. “What about Linc? He won’t want to go to a foster home.”
“Oh, he won’t be. At this point he’s considered a runaway and will be sent to the juvenile home as soon he is found.”
“That isn’t fair!” I protested. “He probably stayed the night at some friend’s house. You can’t just send him to juvie!”
“I can, and I will.”
I shook my head, at the end of my willingness to cooperate and believe that the situation would turn out all right in the end. “I am not going to some foster home. I will just wait here until my dad gets home and comes to bail me out.”
Sophie laughed. “That’s not an option, honey.”
“I’m not going to a foster home.”
“You are,” she said firmly.
“I’m not. I will run away from whatever home you bring me too.”
Sophie sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. After a minute she began sliding all her papers back into her briefcase. “Fine,” she said.
“Fine?” I repeated, relief flooding me.
“No foster home for you. You can just go straight to juvie too,” she said, and with that walked out the door.
I sat alone in the conference room, cold and numb, for over an hour. The only thought that passed through my mind in that time was that Jordan must somehow be to blame. When an officer finally came to escort me out, I almost couldn’t stand up. My life had gone from perfect to hell in less than a few days. But I refused to let myself cry on the long drive north to the juvenile hall. I had never been to one, or even known anyone who had been to one, but I was guessing weakness shouldn’t be the first thing I show the other kids.
I was terrified.
It was a large brick building, stretching out for what looked like a mile on either side of the fortress like a front door. The officer who drove me up walked me into the front office where he “exchanged custody” with a worker. Just hearing them talk about me like that made me sick.
An unhappy woman took me and my case file to a barren office and asked me a list of horrifying questions. Was I on drugs? Was I in danger of going into withdrawals? Was I AIDS or HIV positive, that I was aware of? Had I ever sold my body? Was I pregnant, or did I suspect I was pregnant? When was the date of my last period? I blustered through the questions as best I could without dying of embarrassment. I could tell she didn’t believe any of my answers and I worried about what type of kids I was being locked up with.
She concluded with checking me for lice and track marks and watched me change into an issued uniform of giant underwear, a sports bra, ceil blue scrubs and rubber flip-flops. I got a hairbrush, toothbrush and little packets of soap and toothpaste and a typed out sheet of rules. Finally I was led to my room. Fear and disbelief colored every moment.
It was a dormitory style room with ten bunk beds lined down each wall of the long thin room. The door was at one end, a tall uncovered window at the other. A few girls were lounging on beds when we walked in and they sat up and looked on in interest as the secretary led me to a bed near the far end.
I couldn’t bring myself to look at them. As much as I wanted to think they were probably a lot like me, the despair and anger rolling off them said they weren’t. The bed I was shown to had a rusted metal frame and thin wool blanket. I sat down, wondering who would be the first to approach me.
Finally a thin girl with short, mousy hair came to sit on the bed next to me. “You new?” she asked.
I nodded.
“No, I mean you new here or new to juvie.”
“Oh, um, both,” I replied quietly.
She looked at me with clear e
yes for a moment then said, “It’s hell. But you’ll get used to it after a while.”
“How bad?” I asked, noticing some of the other girls getting up.
She looked me over. “You’re pretty, so probably pretty bad at first.”
I counted four girls coming over to me and so did the girl I was talking to. “You’ll be okay,” she said, and skittered back over to her own bed.
The four girls came and just stood around my bed, not saying anything. I didn’t say anything either, I just waited for whatever was to come.
Finally the one closest to me jeered, “You probably think you’re better than us, huh?”
“I don’t,” I said quietly.
“Yeah you do, look how much makeup you got on, look at your hair. I bet you think you’re some sort of beauty queen, huh?”
Once again, I cursed Jordan and his world for changing how I looked. All it did was bring negative attention to me. And no matter what I said to these girls, it wouldn’t appease them.
“Well, we all know that beauty’s really on the inside, right girls?”
The ugly girls behind her all nodded savagely.
“What do you say we find out what she looks like on the inside?” she asked with a nasty little grin.
One of the other girls, a blonde one, pulled a pair of long scissors out from behind her back and that finally bolted me off the bed.
“Get off!” I shrieked as three of them jumped on top of me. They only laughed, jabbing knees and elbows into every soft spot I had. I fought back, trying vainly to get out from under them. The claustrophobia was overwhelming. Every move I made they just tightened down harder, limiting the range of motion of each of my limbs degree by degree. They finally had me flat on the bed and the ring leader, the evil redhead, stood over me with the scissors.
She didn’t say anything, just leaned over my face with grim determination. I held my breath and moved only my eyes to watch her, praying she wouldn’t lower the scissors to my face.
She didn’t. With one hand she pulled out my glossy hair and with the other, snipped. She went over my whole head, only inches from m scalp as I lay paralyzed by the weight of the other girls.
Finally she leaned back, cocked her head and observed her handy work. “Yup,” she finally said. “Just as ugly as I thought.” And with that she walked away. The other girls jumped up and followed her. I watched them go back over to their group of beds and pick up their magazines and nail polish like they hadn’t just jumped me and cut off all my hair.
Carefully I swept up my long, copper tresses and folded them into a bun. The first girl to talk to me came back over. “It grows out pretty quick,” she said wistfully, fingering her own sloppy pixie cut.
“Is this for real?” I finally choked out.
She shrugged. “I told you this place was hell.”
“No,” I replied. “It’s revenge for a broken heart.”
She looked at me curiously but didn’t ask. “I’m Minnie,” she offered.
“Bixby,” I whispered.
“That’s kind of a funny name,” she said apologetically.
I looked at her pointedly. “I know, I know. It’s just that the girls with kind of funny names get picked on more. So how come you’re here?”
Her ability to carry on a normal conversation after watching someone get assaulted was incredible. “I honestly don’t even know. My grandma was sick and heard something outside and I know someone was messing with us but …” I didn’t know how to continue. Rather than let my bitterness and anger overwhelm me, I kept the conversation with the friendly girl going. “Why are you here?”
She shrugged and I noticed her shoulders seemed to stay permanently hunched. “My dad wasn’t a good guy. So when I finally had enough I set the house on fire and hoped he wouldn’t get out.”
“Are you serious?” I gasped. “That’s terrible.”
Minnie shrugged. “He lived so I only have to stay in here until I’m eighteen.” She gave a wicked grin. “And they’re making him pay for it.”
I shook my head, horrified and amused at the same time.
“So what really happened to get you in here?” she asked softly.
I looked into her eyes and knew I could trust her. “I fell for the wrong guy. He hurt my brother, he hurt me and now he’s hurt my Grandma. He’s ruined my life.”
“Wow,” she breathed. “So what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to find my brother and beg his forgiveness and find my grandma and get her out of that nursing home.” I squared my shoulders with resolve. “And then I’m going to find Jordan and kill him.”
Minnie shook her head. “Oh, no. It’s not worth it, look at me. You can’t just go around trying to kill a person because they hurt you.”
“It’s okay,” I said under my breath. “He’s not a person.”
About the Author
AMBER LIVES AND WORKS IN a beautiful little town right on Lake Michigan with her husband and three children.
Other Titles by Amber Jaeger
Falling (Book 1 of the Hemlock Bay Series)
Look for the sequel, Winter’s Dream, due out October 2012.
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