Chapter 5
Kallie
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Kallie walked to the edge of the porch and dumped the debris from the dustpan. She put the broom back in the corner and straightened the pillows on the swinging bench. Her new foster parents liked things tidy, which she didn't mind. But it always seemed like she was the only one doing chores.
She sat on a wooden bench because she wasn't allowed to disturb the cushions where visitors might sit on the good furniture.
This afternoon, Mrs. Peterson walked over from across the street and visited her foster mom. Kallie rocked on the bench and sighed loudly. There was no use going back inside only to be kicked out of the house again.
Imogen rode by the front of the house on her bicycle. Kallie narrowed her eyes and watched her classmate ride in circles, then stopped next to the curb.
"Are you going to the park?" Imogen let her bike fall onto the sidewalk but stayed behind the gate.
Imogen had never spoken to her at school. She was part of the popular group. All the girls who wore nice clothes and lived in the same neighborhood ignored Kallie because her clothes were hand-me-downs and she was in the foster care system.
"What's at the park?" she asked.
She'd only lived here for the last four months. The area and the school were new to her.
Imogen trailed her fingers along the iron spikes on the fence posts. "Paisley's having a birthday party."
"Oh," she whispered. "I wasn't invited."
Imogen smirked. "Do you even have any friends?"
She bit the inside of her cheek, refusing to show how much the question hurt.
It was hard to make friends when she was always the outsider.
She couldn't invite kids over after school because she lived in a foster home.
She couldn't get attached because she had no idea when the social worker would arrive to take her to a new family.
Not getting any response from Kallie, Imogen picked up her bicycle and rode away. She took a shaky breath. She wouldn't want to go to any stupid birthday party anyway. It sounded childish.
A dog barked. She scanned the neighbor's yard. Old Rufus, the yellow lab, dug a hole by the fence.
The autumn mugginess brought the black flies under the roof of the porch. She waved her hand, shooing them away from her.
The kitchen window opened behind her. She glanced up but couldn't see inside. The window was too high.
"I'll be glad when we get some rain," said her foster mother.
"I hear you. It's hard to sleep at night without having the windows open. When there's no breeze, it's downright miserable."
"Same. We need air conditioning." Her foster mother laughed. "That'll be next summer's goal."
"Are you going to take in any more kids?"
Mrs. Peterson's question piqued Kallie's curiosity. She pressed her back against the house, straining to hear the conversation through the open window.
"Paul wants to." Her foster mom paused. "If we take in a couple more, we'd be able to afford another car."
Kallie rolled her eyes. All they were after was more money from the state.
"Will Kallie stay or will she go back to her real family?"
Kallie's heart raced. She held still. No one ever talked to her about her mom.
"Unfortunately, her mom was released from prison last year," her foster mother said, voice low and annoyed. "She went right back to using."
Kallie froze. No one told her that her mom was out of prison.
"She doesn't want anything to do with Kallie," said her foster mom. "Apparently, she told the caseworker she doesn't want to be a mother. Not now, not ever."
The neighbor clucked her tongue. "Poor girl."
Poor girl? Kallie's throat tightened.
She stared at the dog, giving up on the hole and walking to the opposite end of the yard. Maybe the information her foster mom received was wrong. But deep down, she knew that was the truth. Her mother wasn't coming back for her.
Her mom didn't want her.
But hearing two women talk about her life so casually, like she was a burden no one wanted, broke something inside her.
She stood, not wanting to know anything more. Not wanting to hear her foster mother sigh dramatically and talk about a kid who came with too much baggage. Not wanting to hear the neighbor offer pity like a gift.
She slipped around the side of the house. The neighbor's dog barked once, then fell silent upon recognizing Kallie.
Her heart pounded. She sucked air into her lungs, unable to breathe.
She didn't even remember what her mom sounded like anymore. She couldn't picture her face without it blurring into something half-imagined. Six years was a long time to forget someone who was supposed to be unforgettable.
Anger burned hot in her chest. Her mom's choice to go back to using drugs was only an excuse to abandon.
Fisting her hands, she muffled a scream. She was angry at her mom, at the state, at every adult who promised things would get better. At every kid who teased her about her clothes, her hair, or her circumstances.
At every house that wasn't home.
At every adult who thought she was the way to get a new car.
"I hate this," she whispered. "I hate all of it."
She hugged herself. A longing so sharp twisted inside of her, pulling at her to leave. To get away from everyone who hurt her.
Away from this life.
Away from this town.
Away from the endless cycle of being unwanted.
If she could go anywhere in the world, she'd go to Finn.
Her chest ached for reasons she couldn't explain.
Four years was a long time to go without seeing someone, but she remembered exactly how he looked at her.
There was nothing frightening about him.
He'd talked to her, invited her to eat at the restaurant, and offered her a vacant home in town, even though she was young.
During the time she was with him, she wasn't a problem to fix or a burden to carry. He'd offered her ways to feed herself without the foster care system paying him.
She remembered the town, too. The strange quietness. The men who watched her. The way the air had shifted when she'd stepped onto that road.
She remembered feeling... different there. Safe, in a way she'd never felt anywhere else.
She closed her eyes and tried to picture the road. The curve of it. The trees. The way the clouds covered the sky. She tried to summon the memory hard enough to make it real again.
"Please," she whispered. "Just take me back."
She opened her eyes.
Nothing.
Just the backyard. The fence. The shed. The same world she'd been stuck in for the last six months.
She swallowed hard, blinking back tears. How would she find the road again? She no longer lived in the same town. She couldn't find her way back even if she tried.
But the longing to return stayed with her, growing into a steady ache. A whisper in her bones. A pull toward a place the world was trying to keep her from reaching.
Toward a man she could remember better than she could recall details about her mom.
And somewhere, deep in the part of her that still believed in impossible things, she wondered if he remembered her, too.