There’s a pause on the line. “You thinking about starting something?”
“No,” I say. “Not exactly. I want to get involved with the group home where I lived. It’s broken, Mick. It failed me, and probably a lot of other kids. And now that I know what really happened… I can’t just walk away.”
Another pause. Then his voice drops lower. “You sound like you have a plan. Are we talking revenge or reform?”
“Maybe both,” I say. “But I want to do it right. Legally. Quietly, if I have to. I just… I want to fix what I can. Make sure no one else gets pushed aside like I was.”
He lets out a breath. “Give me a few hours. I’ll make some calls and text you a couple names. People I trust.”
“Thank you, Mick.”
“Anytime, Elle. And hey—good on you. Not everyone would use pain like this to do something good.”
I glance down at Izzy’s drawing, my thumb brushing over the corner. “Yeah,” I murmur. “It’s time.”
***
Two hours later, I have the names of a local nonprofit attorney and a financial consultant. I call both and schedule appointments for next week. After I hang up, I glance toward the front door, debating. I need to clear my head, and running always helps, but there's a good chance I’ll run into Cal. Still, I can’t avoid him forever. With a deep breath, I lace up my shoes and head out.
When I glance at my watch, I realize Hannah’s bus will be rounding the corner in about seven minutes—just enough time for me to jog across the street and down to the start of the running trail before Cal steps outside to wait for her.
The sun’s climbing fast, and with it, the heat. It’s not unbearable yet, but the kind that clings to your skin and reminds you it’s only going to get worse. The air’s heavy with the smell of warm earth and dry grass, and sweat slides down my spine as I press forward on the trail.
Forty minutes in, my legs ache in that satisfying way that says I’ve pushed hard. My breaths are shallow, timed with each stride. I round a bend near the old creek bed, mostly dry this time of year.
Next thing I know, my foot lands wrong on a patch of loose gravel. My ankle rolls hard with a sickening pop that echoes in my head, and I go down.
“Oh no!” I hiss as I hit the dirt, my knees scraping the ground and pebbles embedding into my palms as I try to break the fall.
The pain is sharp and immediate, like a knife twisting in my ankle. I sit up slowly, trying to breathe through it, sweat stinging my eyes. Gingerly, I try to shift my weight—nope.Not happening. The second I move, a hot wave of pain shoots up my leg.
I glance around the trail. Empty, of course. Just me, a twisted ankle, and the heat with no shade in sight.
“Perfect,” I mutter, dragging my hand across my forehead, sticky with sweat.
It’s past noon, and the sun is brutal now—harsh and unforgiving, bearing down on me like a punishment. My water bottle’s back at the house… and so is my pride.
I carefully rise to my feet and hop on one foot over to a large boulder, leaning against it to think and weigh my options.
I hate this.
I hate that I don’t have another choice.
But I know what I have to do to get home.
I pull out my phone and stare at the screen, already knowing exactly who I need to call.
Cal.
God help me.
Chapter 16
Cal
"Are you sure you don't mind watching Hannah for me tonight?" I ask Mom. "I just need a couple of hours."
"Are you sure a couple of hours is long enough to conduct even a civil conversation with Meghan?" Mom's tone is a mix of sarcasm and caution.
