I laugh. “That was easy.”
“Yeah, well, I need to let off some steam.”
We lace up and head out to the ice.
Once we’re skating, I say to Rowan quietly, “Nobody’s going to give a fuck if you’re gay, man.”
“Shut up,” Rowan says.
“I’m just saying.”
We don’t talk about it again.
He helps me work on reading the play better, staying tight to my man, and not giving up the middle of the ice. We drill one-on-ones and gap control until my legs are burning.
By the end of it, all my energy is spent. My muscles ache. My mind is exhausted.
But I can’t stop thinking about Tigerlily.
Her arm wrapped in bandages.
Her sister taken away by CPS.
The tears streaming down her face when she walked down that hallway.
I need to get home.
Chapter Thirty-Four: Tigerlily
The hold music loops for the third time.
Some generic instrumental that’s supposed to be calming but instead makes my anxiety spike with every repetitive chord. I’m sitting on the edge of the guest bed—my bed now, I guess—with the phone pressed so hard against my ear it hurts.
Finally, a click.
“Thank you for holding. This is Margaret speaking.”
“Hi,” I say quickly. “I’m calling about my sister. Zinnia Lopez. She was taken into custody a few days ago.”
“And you are?”
“Her sister. Tigerlily Lopez.”
I hear typing. Clicking. More typing.
“I see her file here. And you’re listed as... let me see... over eighteen, correct?”
“Yes. I’m twenty.”
“Okay. And you’re inquiring about placement?”
“Yeah. I want to know if she’s okay. Where she is. If she can live with me.”
More typing. The sound makes me want to curl into a ball.
“She’s currently in a temporary foster placement. I can’t give you specific location details for privacy and safety reasons, but I can tell you she’s in a home in the Los Angeles area.”
My chest tightens. “Is she okay?”
