The Victim (Book #1)

Chapter 3

When I woke up hours later, I heard arguing from the hall. The night sky made the room fairly black, but the door was open just enough that I could see into the hall. White light spilled in through the crack, and I saw two black shapes pass and then pass back in the opposite direction outside. They shifted back and forth like repelling magnets being forced together, apparently stuck in a stalemate of some sort.

"Hello?" I tried to call out. It was more of a half mumble, half sigh.

"I don't think that's the best idea, Char." A woman's voice said sternly. I thought she may have been talking to me until I heard a response.

"I can't not do anything." A woman said back. Was that... Charlotte speaking? Why was she still here?

"Your family is going to kill you..." The other woman warned, finishing with a nervous laugh. Charlotte laughed back, but it seemed worried and slightly off key. Clearly, they were friends, but there was something there. Fear? Sadness?

"She looks just like the boys did, Kathy ... I can't just leave her."

"Yes, but think of the boys, Char! Do you really want to burden them with this right now? As if that won't remind them of last time?" the woman named Kathy asked.

"I won't leave her, I can't." Charlotte said, making up her mind. "Just for a little while. Until she's safe again."

"I hope you know what you're doing." her friend replied.

"I don't... But that's never stopped me before." She answered, before I slipped back into the inky black of unconsciousness.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

At the end of the week, it was clear they were kicking me out. I had healed enough that I could speed down the hall to get breakfast without crutches, and if I didn't overexert myself too much, I barely even noticed the rib. They weaned me off of the medication I was on until I was fully clean, but I did put a thank you note on the nurse's desk. "Thanks for the drugz. Love, Maya" was sure to be framed, or hung up on her bulletin board at least.

A woman with a thick belt and dark shirt named Mrs. Simoncioni had come earlier to inform me of my release, and the doctors pretty much left me alone now.

Luckily, with nothing much to pack, I was ready to go pretty quickly.

A black car pulled up out on the street, and I sighed before taking the elevator down. I walked up to it confidently, face devoid of expression. I had heard enough horror stories about foster homes on the news that I wasn't sure I was ready, exactly. Nothing you can't handle, my subconscious whispered to my fear. I took a deep breath and straightened up. For a girl that wasn't tall by any means, I stood pretty confidently.

The door clicked open and I took a step back, mouth falling open in surprise when I saw CPS agent Charlotte Anders waiting with a smile.

"Hop in!" she said eagerly, sliding over a seat and making room for me.

I thought about refusing her, and then my other options, and finally sat down inside next to her.

"Hi." I said, confused. "I didn't think I would see you again."

Her lips twisted up almost apologetically and she said, "You weren't supposed to, really..." She ran a hand through her hair and the car suddenly took off, pushing us back against the leather.

"Seat belt." She said lightly, pointing to it. I looked back at her and left it off. As if I still cared what the world could do to me.

I pushed back against the seat and remained silent. She seemed hesitant to tell me what was really happening here, and I wouldn't be the first to speak. After a moment of driving, she sighed.