Honestly, I hadn’t thought of my mother at all. I’m not sure what that said about me. “It’s okay. I’m excited to meet Uncle Bob and see Lake Tahoe. Let me go get that pie.”
I grab my jacket—winter is here to stay despite the clear and blue sky. The snow hasn’t melted and it glares against the sun. I move quickly over to the coffee shop, hoping maybe the awkwardness from the night before has gone.
The first thing I notice is the lack of music, which is definitely a first. No Simon. No Garfunkel. Definitely no Kansas.
The second thing I notice is Sierra behind the counter, busily focused on the coffee pots. Her hair is up in a messy, disheveled bun. The rings under her eyes make me think she hasn’t slept at all. There are no sounds coming from the kitchen. She seems to be alone.
“Sierra?”
She looks over her shoulder. “Oh, Starlee, I didn’t hear you come in.”
That seems odd, with no music and the screen door so squeaky and loud.
“I saw…I saw what happened last night,” I say quietly. “Is everything okay? The twins…”
“They’re gone.” She tosses her cleaning rag on the counter and puts her hands on her hips. “They’re back home with their dad.”
So, it happened. “And Dexter?”
“Dexter is…angry. I told him to go cool off.”
“He told me they’re opening an investigation. Can you tell me why?”
“It’s a bunch of little things. The concussion—and Mr. Evans showing up again. The easiest way for him to get those boys back was to declare me unfit.”
I nod, walking closer to the counter. “What else?”
“Dexter had been warned about sticking to his probation. Mr. Jameson isn’t turning him in—but there were warnings, Starlee. You being one of them. When they found you in that house with all the boys it opened up a can of worms.”
“Why?”
“Your mother had you listed as a runaway when you first left North Carolina. She took if off once she talked to your grandmother and it was decided you could stay, but it doesn’t look good. It seems like Dexter and the others hanging out with another at-risk kid—a ‘bad influence.’” She uses air quotes and a piece of my heart cracks. “This is a big no-no. You went to homecoming with Jake which was very public and there are dozens of witnesses to the fact you’re all friends and spend a lot of time together. I know you’re good for them so I let it slide—which is on me.”
Tears prick at my eyes but I refuse to let them fall. “What does that have to do with you and your abilities to help the guys?”
“The social workers found out that I allow you in the house. Sometimes alone.”
“To tutor Jake! And take care of George.”
“I know, Starlee, I know.” She tilts her head and sighs. “I also know you and Dexter hooked up at the cabin before. When you all went missing the other night and the tracker said you were close—putting two and two together wasn’t hard.”
“We didn’t do anything the other night. Nothing,” I whisper. My cheeks are so red, so hot, it can only relay guilt.
“I believe you. I believe Dexter and Jake and Charlie and George, but whoever made that call had enough evidence to prove to the caseworkers that my foster home is out of control.” She looks at her hands, twisting the rag on the countertop. “It’s enough to give Mr. Evans leverage to bring his boys back home and it’s enough to start an investigation.”
A lump forms
in my throat and the tears are no longer under my control. “What about Jake and Dexter?”
“Jake is already eighteen. He was held back a year because of his learning disability. He can choose to stay if he wants and I’m giving him that option.”
Faint relief washes over me. “And Dexter?”
“They’re giving us the holiday to work something out. He’s on probation, but Mr. Jameson, thank god, has decided he hasn’t really violated anything to push a hearing.” She levels me with a hard look. “As long as I make some changes around here.”
There’s no doubt from the way she’s looking at me what those changes are.
Me.