Snared(31)

My throat was so dry, I couldn’t swallow. I picked up my water and guzzled it, my mind racing. “I think I hurt his feelings when I saw him the other day.”

Natalie sighed. “He’s sensitive. It’s hard because of what you do for a living, I think. It’s a part of his life he never wants to think about and when you are around, it reminds him. I believe this group home visit will be difficult for him.”

She seemed to know what I’d said to him, and it worried me. If he’d told her, it probably meant I had, in fact, upset him. I needed to know. “Did he tell you what I said?”

“No. Beau rarely tells me anything. That’s just him. Here’s some advice for you. When you see him next week, don’t pussy foot around him. If you want to get to know him, you’re going to have to push him some. I can’t make you any promises about what will happen, but I’d say you’ll have to push him outside his norm if you want a chance at all.”

“Thank you, Natalie. There’s just something about him I can’t get out of my head.”

“I only hope someone as great as you could be the person to get through to my brother, April. It would make my life for him to have a reason to smile. He deserves that and then some.”



“April.” Bella stuck her head into my open doorway. “We got a call that we’re getting a transfer in and they want to bring him to Kids Life Group Home, but they say they are at capacity.”

I sighed, pushing my chair back. “Where’s he from, and do we not have any available foster homes?”

“The Miami area, I believe.”

I furrowed my brow. “Why is he coming here?”

Bella shrugged. “I don’t know. You didn’t know about this? I assumed it had been approved by you already.”

The lack of communication in this profession was astounding sometimes. I’d already spent my morning at the courthouse, overseeing my social workers with their current cases and a few of my own that I’d kept even after I became a supervisor. I was frustrated and exhausted, and it was barely noon.

“No, I didn’t know. There aren’t any foster homes available?”

Bella frowned. “I guess the child’s history has made every foster home turn him down.”

I rubbed my temples, feeling a headache coming. “How old is he?”

“He’s nine.”

“What’s his history?” I knew from experience that saying “oh, he’s just nine” could bite you right in the ass. While most nine years olds still played with toys and loved their parents, kids who were nine in the foster care system oftentimes had a lot done to them or seen a lot in their lives.

“In and out of foster care since infancy. Mom was given the chance to get him back several times.”

“Dad?”

Bella shook her head. “Not in the picture. No dad listed on birth certificate.”

“So what’s mom’s deal now?”

“They didn’t tell me, just that he was in the system again and probably would be for a long time, if not forever. The kid has issues, as you can imagine. He was kicked out of several foster homes in the Miami area.”

I picked up my phone and dialed Kids Life Group Home. After being put on hold for several minutes, the director finally picked up. He was a great friend of mine and someone I trusted.

“Trent.”

“April, hey. Is this about the boy?”

He knew me well. “Yes. I need you to take him, Trent.”

“April, you know I’ll do anything for you, but I’m full. I really can’t.”

I sighed. I was going to have to sleep in the office with this child tonight if I didn’t find somewhere for him to go. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d had to do that in my career, and it more than likely wouldn’t be the last. “Have any connections to any foster homes you could sweet talk into taking him for a few days?”

Trent snorted. “You know the issues around here, April. The foster homes are bulging with kids, and none of them are leaving.”

Unshed tears stung the backs of my eyes, and I didn’t understand why. I’d been doing this for years, and this wasn’t the first time I’d been in this situation, and I knew it wouldn’t be my last. I could only hope the spotlight with Jaded Regret that would run on all our local news channels and in our newspaper would shed some light on our foster system and get quality people who wanted to help these kids.

“Can you just take him tonight, Trent? I promise I’ll figure out something tomorrow for him.”

He sighed. “April . . .”

Bella’s phone rang and she stepped out. I watched as she paced back and forth, eyeing me. She must’ve been on the phone with the other counselor. She walked back in, her hand over the mouthpiece. “Where are they taking him? They’re downstairs.”