Chapter 28
Motive
THEO
The group foster home was smelly, a gross combination of body odor and burned food.
I remember that day clearly. It’s seared into my mind like a bad, drunken tattoo.
I was ten. They’d taken me straight from my house.
Only a few hours ago, I found my parents sprawled out in the living room, lifeless, surrounded by needles.
The police officer didn’t tell me anything, but I saw the marks, the empty syringes.
I had no family other than my parents. Not even a distant aunt.
I was alone long before my parents died.
The cops kept saying things like, "I’m sorry, kid,” as if that was supposed to make my new reality better.
When the cops dropped me off at the house—a big, run-down place with too many kids, too many voices—I felt like I was transported into some alternative universe.
There were kids running around, yelling, their voices bouncing off the walls.
Other kids sat quiet and distant, like sad, lonely shadows. I was one of those kids.
Unsure of what to do, I stuck my hands in my pockets and stood there, in a corner, feeling smaller than I’d ever felt in my life. And I’ve always felt small, but this…this was different.
Then I saw her—a girl with pigtails sitting at a small table by herself, leaning over a puzzle.
She was biting her tongue, fitting the chunky pieces together with a strange kind of focus.
Like there wasn’t chaos all around her. She didn’t seem new.
She seemed like a veteran. That thought made me sad.
As if sensing my stare, she looked up, and to my surprise, she smiled.
A big, toothy grin, like this was the happiest place on earth.
She waved. I figured she had to be waving at someone else. No one looked at me like that—warm, kind, like I mattered. But then she waved again, more insistent, and her smile widened.
“Come here,” she called over.
I hesitated, but after a few seconds, I walked over to her, my hands still buried in my pockets. Who could be that happy here? And why was she acting like this was normal? When I reached the table, she patted the yellow plastic chair next to hers.
“Hi!” she said, her voice bright and cheery, and far too upbeat. Her pigtails bounced a little as she shifted in her seat, and she reached for another puzzle piece, setting it in place with a satisfied grin. “I’m almost done, but I could always use some help. Another set of eyes, you know?”
I glanced around, then back at her, trying to figure her out. Doesn’t she know where we are? Why is she smiling so much?
“I’m Jaime Kowalski,” she said, holding out a tiny hand toward me.
“Theodore Dunston,” I said back, shaking her hand.
She giggled. “You should sit down Theodore Dunston. You don’t need to be scared. I’ll be your friend.”
I blinked at her. “Friends?”
She nodded, as if it were obvious. “In a place like this…” She shrugged. “It’s always good to have a friend.”
And so I sat down.
24 Years Ago
The playground gravel crunched beneath our sneakers as Jaime, Owen, Liam, and I took turns on the monkey bars.
The twins were competitive, trying to swing farther and faster than anyone else.
Jaime was quieter today, though. She usually laughed with the twins or shouted at them to slow down, but this afternoon, she moved carefully, almost like she was trying to hide.
It didn’t take long to spot it—a dark bruise blooming on her upper arm, half-covered by her T-shirt sleeve. When it caught the light, it looked more painful than I wanted to imagine.
“Jaime,” I said quietly, sidling closer as she took a seat on one of the low bars, “what happened to your arm?”
She froze, her eyes darting down to the bruise before quickly looking away. Her fingers fidgeted on her lap, twisting a thread at the hem of her shirt.
“I… I fell. Clumsy, I guess.”
She forced a smile. The lie was as flimsy as the autumn breeze drifting through the playground.
Owen jerked his head, picking up on our conversation. He dropped down from the bars, followed by Liam, who dusted off his hands and frowned at Jaime’s arm.
“Aaron did it,” Owen muttered, his voice edged with anger. “Three nights ago. I hate that guy.”
I scowled, my stomach twisting. “Your foster dad?”
Liam’s face darkened. “Not all of us get to live with a Penny, Theodore.” There was resentment there, bitter and sharp. I felt a hot spike of anger at the thought of someone hurting Jaime, my best friend, my—for all intents and purposes—sister.
“You need to tell someone!” I whispered harshly, looking between them. “Your social worker or someone at school. They’ll—”
Jaime looked away, biting her lip, while Liam shook his head, scowling at me.
“They’ll, what?” Liam spat, his voice rising. “Put her in a worse home? Yeah, then maybe instead of bruises, she’ll get cuts or miss dinners entirely. It’s fine, Theo. We’ll protect her.” He nudged Jaime with his elbow. “Right, Jams?”
Jaime’s smile was small and tired as she nodded. “It’s fine, Theo. Aaron just… He had a bad day. He… He said sorry after.” She shrugged, the motion stiff. “Took me for ice cream the next day.”
Frustration boiled under my skin. Her pain felt like a knife pressing into my bones. I wanted to argue, to yell, to do something, but before I could say a word, Penny came into view, waving her film camera as she walked toward us with a grin.
“Alright, kids, ready for a photo?”
The four of us exchanged a glance, slipping on the masks we wore in public. We straightened up, forced smiles onto our faces, and looked like happy, normal kids just enjoying a day at the park.
Penny snapped the photo and smiled, lowering the camera.
“I’ll make a few copies,” she said. “So you can all have one.”
The twins got adopted a year later. They couldn’t protect Jaime anymore. It’d become my job. And I’d fail. I’d fail terribly.
20 Years Ago
The digital alarm clock on my nightstand glowed in the dark—2:13 a.m. A light tap sounded from my window, like a pebble being thrown against the glass. And then another and another. I jerked out of bed and ran to the windowsill. Jaime stood below my window in the freezing cold, shivering.
Not again, I thought.
I sprinted down the stairs to the side entrance, my heart racing. When I opened the door, my teeth clenched. Jaime’s right eye was bruised and swollen, and her lips trembled as she wrapped her arms tightly around herself.
I pulled her into the warmth of the house, shutting the door as softly as I could. She flinched when I brushed against her, and I cursed under my breath. I didn’t need to ask; I could see the answer in her darkened eyes and the shaky breath she took. Aaron. Fucking bastard.
“Jesus, Jaime,” I whispered, my voice catching in my throat. “I’m calling the police.”
“No…please.” She looked around the quiet house before her gaze landed on me. “I’m okay, Theo. I’m fine. I just needed to get out of there.” She wiped her nose with the back of her sleeve. “In two years, I’ll leave. I just have to survive two more years.”
“Two years?!” I exclaimed. “Look at you! Look at what he did to you!” I clasped her hands in mine. “Please, let me tell Penny. She’ll take you in. She’ll—”
“No!” Jaime pulled away from me, her tone stern and full of resolve. “I can’t leave them. I can’t abandon Sarah and Dee. They’re too little, Theodore. But in two years, I’ll be eighteen. I can take them with me. I can keep them safe. So please, don’t fucking say anything.”
I stared at her, my tongue itching to fight against her request. It kept getting worse.
More frequent, more violent. I was supposed to protect her.
I was supposed to keep her safe. But when I looked at her, I saw how much I failed.
She was falling apart right before my eyes, and I didn’t have the tools or resources to mend the cracks, fix the pieces, not without her help.
I wanted to argue, to shake her and make her see that she deserved so much better, that no one should have to endure what she did. But there was no point in arguing. Her whole world was wrapped up in protecting those younger kids. Jaime wasn’t just surviving—she was sacrificing herself for them.
“Jaime, you shouldn’t have to…” My voice wavered, falling into a whisper. “It isn’t right. You shouldn’t have to put yourself through this.”
“I know, Theo,” she said softly, but there was no weakness in her words. “But that’s just how it is. Until I’m old enough, I’ll stay. I just…” Her gaze dropped. “I just needed somewhere safe to stay tonight.” She glanced up at me. “Can I crash on your couch?”
“You can sleep in my bed,” I said. “I’ll take the couch.”
If I couldn’t protect her, at least I could make sure she’d be comfortable.
18 Years Ago
The country club was empty, almost serene, as I trailed behind Mr. Yamato.
I’d gotten used to the calm here. The lawns were perfectly trimmed, the sound of clinking glasses and laughter came from the main building.
At eighteen, this caddie gig was enough to cover my studio apartment in the Bronx.
Barely, but it was something. And, for the first time, I could be the one helping out Penny, not the other way around.
I hoped that maybe one day, if I worked hard enough, Penny could own her own cleaning service.
Jaime had a new job too, and at first, she’d seemed thrilled. She hadn’t told me much—just that it was in the city, and that the tips were insane.
“Theo, I’m making way more than I ever thought I could,” she’d said, half hopeful, half desperate. “I’ll be able to take the kids in no time!”
But over the weeks, I started noticing the changes.
Her newfound happiness dimmed, and the circles under her eyes darkened.
When we’d meet, she’d laugh a little too loud, smile a little too quick.
It felt like she was putting on a show. I’ve watched her performances since we were ten. I knew something was wrong.