“A great, sweet kid,” Rachel continues, “Warren has been trying to locate housing but has struggled to find a two-bedroom apartment that would remain close to his work and his brother’s school—which is a necessity.”
“He can’t just change schools?” I ask abruptly.
“The school is for deaf children, and it’s the only one in this area.”
I avoid eye contact and nod. I know that school; it isn’t too far from me, actually. I breathe in, preparing to mentally weigh the pros and cons.
“Willow has about seven weeks left until she will be out of the NICU. You have time tomake another arrangement. It would need to be someone willing to commit to the evaluation process and be certified by our office.” She pauses, studying my reaction. “There may be another guardianwho decides to try TeamUp, but I would presume most would be looking for income assistance and not housing, as housing tends to be more flexible.”
There’s a plea in Rachel’s tone, whether she intends it or not. Her job is to be an advocate, but it must be a tricky balance when she is representing both Willow and this older boy. They both need a win.
“Warren is looking for something immediate. The sooner the better. His brother is currently placed in a group home that is…” Rachel hesitates and shakes her head, “unfortunately unable to meet the needs of a deaf child.”
They don’t know sign language?My heart drops. That must be so lonely. “And if I say yes… will I be approved to bring Willow home? As soon as she’s ready?”
“Yes, if Warren agrees to the arrangement as well.”
“Okay… I’m in.”Anything for Willow.
“Wonderful.” Rachel’s face remains nearly neutral, but she does tap with the edges of her pointer fingers as if she is drumming on her desk’s edge.
“I will let Warren know, and we can arrange a meeting. Would you prefer to meet here?”
“You can give him my address. He may as well see where he might be living for the next few months.” I sit straighter in the chair, nodding to provide myself reassurance.
Rachel nods. “Okay. I’ll ask if that’s comfortable for him and let you know.”
I stand. “Great.”
“Thank you, Chloe, for being open to this. I think it will be really beneficial for you both.”
“Let’s hope so.”It’s only until January.How hard could it be?
CHAPTER SIX
Warren is late. I pace back and forth in front of my building’s front entrance and check my phone yet again. 10:52 a.m.Twenty-two minutes late.I have been standing outside for thirty, like a reasonable person would when about to meet a potential roommate. Not simply a roommate, but someone who stands to make or break my sibling’s placement. He better be pulling a car off an old lady or rescuing a cat from a tree.
I checked my appearance three times before leaving the apartmentand changed my outfit twice, settling on my favourite yellow jumpsuit.I paired it with my clay cherry earrings and red headband. People like bright colours, right? This outfit says, “I’m safe, approachable. We can be a team.”
A black car pulls up into the semi-circle driveway of my apartment building, and I adjust my posture to stand straighter as I expect to meet Warren and direct him to the visitor’s parking. The music from the car is far too loud for it to be a ride service, but I look behind me to see if someone is waiting for one. It’s only me outside.
The car turns off and the door opens. I notice a buzz-cut first, and then the sheer height of the stranger as he shuts the car door and surveys the building. He moves towards me, paying me no mind. Not Warren, I suppose. I allow my eyes to follow him as he passes me. He has the face of a handsome movie villain—devastatingly sharp.
“Hey!” I yell, but the stranger doesn’t turn. “Hello? You can’t park here!” I project my voice louder.
The guy looks over his shoulder and narrows his eyes ever so slightly before turning back towards the front entrance.
“Hey!” I say, exasperated.
“I’ll be just a minute.” He lifts a hand to literally wave me off. His voice is deep and smug—a deadly combination.
“Excuse me? No!” I look around, no sign of another car approaching. Perhaps it’s because I’m bored waiting around for Warren to show, but I choose this hill to die on. I follow the brooding stranger inside the lobby. He presses the call button on the intercom next to the inner door as I enter.
“Listen,Prison Break, you can’t park out front. You’re blocking the entrance.” He turns and looks down at me, more out of necessity than patronisation—but the effect is the same. He opens his curled lips to speak as my phone rings.
I reach into my back pocket and lift a hand in front of his broad chest to silence him. He raises his eyebrows at my palm as I pull up my phone.
“Huh?” My buzzer is ringing. Oh, shit.Of-freaking-course…I silence my phone and let out a deep exhale, lowering my hand to my jumpsuit’s pocket.
