Sierra
Chapter five
Please let Sam be okay!
I barely was able to give her a hug before they separated us yesterday when we got to the Social Services building.
She went with a lady who greeted us there and I went with Mrs. Jenkins, who took me to a nice foster home, telling me she’d be back to get me.
She made sure to let me know it was just an emergency temporary placement until today.
I tossed and turned all night, worrying over Sam and whether she was being treated okay. Did she even understand what was going on? Mrs. Jenkins wouldn’t tell me why we couldn’t go to the same place.
Several questions cross my mind as I step inside her office, but at the top currently is who turned us in. It’s not very homey for an office. It’s where she spends at least eight hours of her day, you’d expect more of her here.
Her desk is piled high with files and a lone picture.
It’s turned the other way, so I can’t see who’s in it.
The walls are bare except for her degree from college and a piece of art she probably bought at a discount store.
It’s of a broken down farmhouse with an older man and woman standing in front of it with a pitchfork in each of their hands.
She gestures for me to take a seat in the black leather chair as she moves behind the desk and sits down. She opens the file in her hand and begins looking through the papers.
“Sierra, we’re looking for your aunt. Do you care to tell me what happened to you?”
“I told you already, I’ve been sick with the flu. I got lightheaded and fell. That’s it. Where’s Sam?” She is the only person I care about.
“She’s with my colleague. Now, who did this to you?” She places the folder down before leaning back in her chair.
“No one. I’ve told you that. Can I see Sam?” I need to put my arms around her, to hear her sweet voice as she calls me Ci Ci. Until I do, I’m only going to think the worst.
“I’m sorry, but until we finish our investigation, that won’t be happening.
Both of you are being placed in separate temporary emergency foster homes until we can find your aunt.
We will bring you back here tomorrow so we can finish this conversation.
I suggest you take tonight to think about whether or not you want to keep up this act.
” She picks up her phone and dials a number as my body shakes.
I’m so upset and I wish my mom was here.
“Hello, Linda. This is Mrs. Jenkins with Carlson Child Protective Services.”
Unfortunately, she doesn’t have the call on speakerphone, so I only get a one-sided conversation.
“I’m good. Thank you for asking. We have someone we need to place in your home, and I see you have an opening.”
Mrs. Jenkins looks up and smiles. How can she fucking smile when she’s keeping me from my sister?
“Yes, she’s seventeen.” She goes quiet, listening to whoever is on the other side. The silence is so deafening you could hear a pin drop.
I pick at the hem of my shirt as I wonder what the hell happened. Who called CPS? Most importantly, why? Is Sam being asked the same questions? Has she told the truth? Losing her is not in my plans. Not even two months from now, and she would have been mine.
“Yes, there is an ongoing investigation. She turns eighteen in a couple of months, so if needed, could you extend your temporary care?”
What!? No, I need to be home with Sam!
My heart rate speeds up as sweat beads on my forehead. I feel lightheaded. Tears stream down my cheeks and I swipe my hand angrily across them.
“Amazing, thank you so much. We will be there within the hour.” Mrs. Jenkins hangs up the phone, then takes some tissues from the container and hands them to me. I wipe my eyes, then blow my nose before balling the tissue up in my hand.
“Okay then, let’s go.” She stands from her chair, picking up the file again along with her purse.
“Is Sam going to a foster home, too?” I ask, wondering if maybe Mrs. Butler was contacted to see if she could take her. I really hope I misunderstood when she said we wouldn’t be going to the same home.
“Yes, she is. And like I said before, you won’t be going to the same one.” Instantly it feels like I’ve been punched in the stomach and my breath whooshes out of me.
“But why?” My voice catches as I hold back the sob threatening to break free. Why are they doing this to us? I try to pull in a deep breath, but it’s like my lungs don’t want to work, my chest is so heavy.
“Sierra. I’ve already explained this to you. I don’t intend to keep doing it over and over. I’m very sorry, but this is how it has to be,” she says coldly.
As we step out of her office, my eyes scan the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. But nothing. When we reach Mrs. Jenkins' car with no sight of Sam, I know my chance is gone. We’re not going to the same place, and until they talk to Sarah, I’m not going to be able to talk to her.
Here I am, once again, sitting in Mrs. Jenkins’ office.
It’s one in the afternoon and all I can think about is Sam.
I don’t care if she told them I’ve been taking care of us or how Sarah treats us.
All I need is for her to be okay. The home they placed me in is alright, I guess.
Linda is nice enough. She didn’t try to pry, just simply let me be.
I woke up this morning expecting to go to school, but she told me that wasn’t happening. That my schoolwork would be collected and brought to me so that I wouldn’t fall behind. I just wish I knew when that was.
“When can I see Sam?” It’s the only thing I care to know.
“Who beat you up, Sierra?” Really, can’t we move past this?
“No one, I tripped. Just ask my aunt. She can confirm it.” I try to keep a straight face. I need her to buy my story.
“Well, we haven’t been able to locate her. We know she’s not working at the same place of employment we have on file for her. We also stopped by your apartment this morning and there wasn’t anyone there. Who’s been taking care of you and Sam?”
“My aunt! Who else?” I’m going to do what it takes to get back home with Sam.
Sarah will show up and give them a line of bullshit that they’ll fall hook, line, and sinker for, then this whole mess will be over.
As much as I don’t want to go back to her being our caregiver, it’s the only way I can get back to Sam.
“Sierra, if she did this to you, why protect her?” Mrs. Jenkins looks intently at me and I drop my head, staring down at my hands in my lap.
I don’t move or say a word. Pursing my lips, I take on a vacant look, staring out into space.
The only way I can calm all the anxiousness and worry inside of me is to imagine being with Sam and Mom.
God, why did she have to leave us? I know if she knew it would turn out like this, she would have fought fate with every fiber of her being.
“Okay, well, if you’re not going to talk about who did this to you, then we need to discuss something else. The CPS report made also contains an accusation of sibling abuse.”
That gets my attention and my head jerks up. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that it was reported that you were abusive to your sister.”
Jumping from the chair, I slam my hands down on her desk.
“That’s a fucking lie. I’d never hurt Sam.” My breathing is ragged and my body thrums with anger. Whoever made that report is going to pay. And I have a good idea who.
“We’ve talked with Sam and she denies any abuse, but much like you, she’s refusing to speak. The only thing she does talk about is you and wanting to see you. I can tell she loves you, but until the charges are fully investigated and dropped, you’ll be kept from her.”
I can’t help it. The dam bursts as I break down in front of her. For someone to say I’d hurt Sam is soul-crushing. She’s my world, and I’ve done everything in my power to keep her safe.
Mrs. Jenkins doesn’t try to console me, not that she could. The only sound in the room is my sobbing.
“Are you ready to tell me who did this to you?”
“I told you. What’s going to happen to Sam? To me?” It’s going to come out that Sarah isn’t a good caregiver. Hell, they can’t even find her. I’m almost positive that they already suspect she either beat the shit out of me or allowed someone else to do it. They just want my confirmation.
But then my mind races and all I can think about is them finding her and her pulling the wool over their eyes. Making up some story to make her look innocent and me as the bad guy. What if she convinces them I did hurt Sam?
“Well, until we find your aunt, and the investigation against you is closed, you will be placed in separate homes and you will not be able to see Sam.”
A knock at the door pulls our attention. Mrs. Jenkins stands and heads over to open it.
I don’t turn to look. I can hear their hushed words but can’t make them out. The only thing I made out was ‘send him in.’
She returns to her desk, leaving the door open.
“We received a call from your guidance counselor this morning. We thought it was odd at first since we hadn’t reached out to the school.
He explained to us that he heard about what happened with you and your sister from his sons.
He wants to offer some assistance in bringing your schoolwork to you—” She pauses mid-sentence and looks up at the door.
“Ah, perfect, Mr. Stevenson. I was just explaining to Sierra why you’re here. ”
“Good afternoon. Sierra, it’s good to see you again, but I’m sorry it’s under these circumstances. I’ve spoken with all your teachers and got your assignments for the week.” I just nod my head, no desire to talk. I wonder when I’ll be able to go back to school. Not that it matters, really.
Wonder how long it’s going to take this to spread around the school.
Mr. Stevenson takes a seat in the chair beside me and pulls a manilla envelope from his briefcase, holding it out to me. I just look at it, not even caring anymore. When I don’t reach out to take it, he sets it on the desk in front of me.
“Thank you,” finally slips from my lips. I can’t be rude; he’s been nothing but nice to me.
“Mr. Stevenson, thank you for coming back this afternoon. I haven’t had a chance to tell her.”
“Tell me what?” I speak up.
“Do you mind if I explain, Mrs. Jenkins?”
“No, of course not. I’ll let you tell her and then go check on the situation that was just brought to my attention. Is that okay, Sierra?” I nod and she stands, leaving the room, shutting the door behind her.
“What do you have to explain?” I ask.
“As you know, I adopted all the boys.”
“They told me.” Reaching forward, I take a tissue from the box and wipe my nose.
“Well, before I adopted them, I became licensed to be a foster parent. When we heard what happened to you, John and I came here this morning to see how we could assist. While they transition my license here and approve his application, they have given us the ability to take you in on an emergency basis.” He smiles softly at me.
“What about Sam?” She’s who I’m concerned about, not me.
He lets out a deep breath and I know what's about to come can’t be good.