Page 5 of Make Me Pretty
My heart nearly breaks at her consideration—and at the fact I can’t trust it.
“It’s fine. Send him in.” She nods, giving me a small smile. One minute stretches into two, then three.
The knob turns. “Hey, Bill,” I sigh. He huffs a breath, closing the door behind him. His feetthunkacross the floor. A chair scrapes. Creaks as he sits.
“What the hell, Abel.”
Not a question, then. Just diving right in.
“Not sure what you want me to say here, Bill.” I keep my gaze trained on the spotted ceiling tiles.
“How about starting with—I don’t know—what happened?”
“I fell.”
“Oh, that’s new. And original,” he deadpans.
I snort. “That’s me.”
“We’ve pulled you from the Mills’ house.”
I bite back the impulse to take in a sharp pull of air. “I was fine there.”
A scoff. “Clearly not.”
“This wasn’t them.”
“Wasn’t it? You’re not talking. No one knows what happened.”
“Whatexactlyhappened isn’t anyone’s business.” I turn my head, facing him. “Ican’t notbe there. You’re gonna send me to a fucking group home—and youknowwhat happens there, Bill. I’m lucky to have avoided it this long. Just… give me four more months. That’s all I fucking need, and you know that.”
Just four months…
Bill’s head drops slightly, showcasing the top of his shiny, bald head. He rubs his palm over it before dropping his muscled arm back in his lap. “It wasn’t my choice. The surprise visit to their home an hour ago indicated you weren’t the only one being abused.”
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter, squeezing my eyes closed. “They didn’t fucking touch the younger kids. And now, they’re going who knows where. Wehad it.”
“Apparently not.”
I shoot up in the bed and immediately regret it. My head swims and pulses like I just slammed into a cinderblock. Breath doesn’t fill my lungs, making everything hazy and pressurized.
Bill’s warm hand clasps my shoulder. “Don’t strain yourself, Abel. I’m sorry, but it’s done.”
My throat closes, and to my dismay, my voice wobbles as I say, “What about me? What am I supposed to do?” I close my eyes against the sting, refusing to letanythingspill.
“We found emergency placement for you. Don’t know if it will become permanent, but for the foreseeable future…”
“Where?” At least I have my bag with me. Shit can switch on a dime, but I’m usually always ready—and I never go anywhere without my bag, which is filled with my only possessions.
“Here, actually.”
“Shit, really?”
“Mhm.” He nods, and for the first time since I met Bill a decade ago, he’ssmiling.It’s odd.
I don’t like it. So, I scowl. “What the hell are you smiling for?”I mean, honestly. What the fuck is there to be happy about right now?
“I’ll be right back.”
