He scoffs. “According to your file, you’ve been in trouble with the police a number of times.”
I gasp. “I’ve never once been in any kind of trouble.”
He lifts a brow. “You calling me a liar, Eloise?”
“I’m telling you your information is crap.”
“And yet, who do you think the police will believe when I call them?”
The blood drains from my face. What is he alluding to?
He leans back to pick up the file and scans the page, rattling off a list of lies. “Shoplifting twice, drug possession three times, evading arrest once, curfew violations four.” He points toward the clear bag. “Do you know how much time you would serve in prison for having that much cocaine on you?”
I can’t breathe. Is he serious? My jaw drops open.
Larkin jeers at me as he sets the folder down and crosses his arms again. “I see you turned eighteen last month. You’re an adult now. That makes possession of illegal drugs a much more serious offense. You were supposed to graduate in a month. I see your foster parents agreed to let you live there until then.”
I stare at him. I’m certain my eyes are wide. I can’t figure out who planted this. Surely not another student. I don’t even know anyone here that well. Plus, how would they have access to my files? And they couldn’t have actually created false police reports.
“You’ve got two options, Eloise.”
I can’t even blink. My head is pounding.
He grabs the edge of his desk and leans closer. So close I can smell his breath. Burgers from lunch. I want to vomit. “Either I call this in right now and you spend the next twenty years in prison, or you choose door number two and follow my instructions to avoid hard time.”
My mouth is so dry I can’t even lick my lips or swallow. I might faint. He’s fucking blackmailing me.
He leans even closer. There’s less than an inch between his face and mine. “Let me tell you something, Eloise. If you think I don’t have the power to put you in prison, you’re wrong. I have an entire file that demonstrates you’re nothing but trouble. These records with the police do exist. So I’d think twice about taking your chances. I have an exemplary record with the department. It would be your word against mine. An obvious problem child with a drug addiction and a history of arrest against a cop.”
I white-knuckle the arms of the chair.
“You’re going to go home and act like everything is fine. At midnight, you will pack a backpack and sneak out of the house. You’ll meet me here in the rear parking lot at twelve-thirty.”
My ears are ringing, and I gasp when Larkin grabs my chin and holds it painfully. “Make it look like you simply ran away, Eloise. No one will give a fuck. You’re eighteen. Are we clear?”
I don’t move a muscle.
“Are we fucking clear?” he shouts.
“Yes, sir.” I hate myself for caving, but what the fuck am I supposed to do?
“Good. See you in a few hours. If you’re not there, I call the cops. If you run, I call the cops. They’ll have a warrant out for your arrest before morning. If you tell anyone about this, same thing. Your word against mine.” He releases my chin and pats my cheek condescendingly. “Go.”
I grab my backpack with shaky hands, stand, and hurry from his office. I don’t even glance back.
I don’t know what the hell is going to happen to me, but I do know my life is fucked either way.
I only manage to hold my tears until I get home and into the room I share with another foster child. She’s seven. I lie on my bed and try not to hyperventilate.
My life has been shit from the moment I fell out of my mother’s womb, and it looks like it’s about to get a whole lot worse.
Chapter One
Four years later…
* * *
Eloise
