“I’m being thorough,” she said, picking up the corn and tossing it in a trash can.“Making sure you’re safe.”
“Bullshit.”Tiana’s eyes narrowed.“I’m not dumb.Something’s wrong with the Rossis, isn’t it?”
“I’ll check their paperwork tomorrow,” Keisha said, dodging.“If there’s an issue, I’ll handle it.”
“And if you find something?”
“I’ll keep you safe.”Another promise, heavy as her foster sister’s memory.
Tiana’s face softened, then hardened.“Whatever.I’m out in two years anyway.”
Her bravado hid fear.Keisha knew that mask...had worn it herself.“College apps?”
“FIU early admission.Full scholarship if my GPA holds.”Tiana grinned, pride breaking through.“Pre-med, like I said.”
“That’s huge, Tiana.”
“Yeah, well.Gotta prove foster kids can be doctors.”She shrugged, but the spark stayed.
Keisha’s watch read 9:15.Her tremor spread up her arm, muscles tensing.“Curfew’s 9:45, right?”
“School nights, yeah.Mrs.Rossi gave me fifteen extra ‘cause of my history A.”
“Generous,” Keisha said dryly.
They headed to her car, Tiana’s socks flashing in neon light.Keisha gripped her keys, counting breaths.Mikalai lingered across the street, turning away when she spotted him.Her heart kicked, teeth chattering.
“Keisha?”Tiana’s voice softened.“If the Rossis are bad, you won’t let them split me and Miguel, right?He’s only in fifth grade.He needs me.”
The question cut deep.“I’ll do everything to keep you together,” Keisha said, promising what she’d failed to do before.
Tiana nodded.They reached the car, but as Keisha grabbed the handle, a figure loomed.Sergei.Her stomach dropped, heat flushing her skin.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, voice low, for her alone.
His jacket brushed her arm, crowding her.Tattoos shifted on his neck, intricate and unreadable.She focused there, avoiding his too-close face.“Neither should you,” she said, stepping out despite his warning.“I’m taking Tiana home.”
“It’s not safe.”His fingers grazed her wrist.“The Rossis are in it, Keisha.Coastal’s adoption scam.”
His touch sparked, electric and unwanted.Her pulse quickened, warmth low in her belly.She jerked away, sneakers scraping.“I don’t need your theories, Sergei.”
“It’s fact.”He glanced at Tiana, watching through the window.“Coastal targets kids like her—smart, no trouble.High prices.”
Neon flashed across his face, harsh then soft.Keisha crossed her arms.“How do you know?”
“You know how.”
His confession from days ago echoed.“I told you, I don’t need your help.”
“Your hand’s shaking,” he said, nodding at it.
“Not your business.”
Tiana stepped out, soda can crumpling in her grip.“Everything okay?”
“All good,” Keisha said, softening.“This is Sergei.He’s...”
“A friend,” Sergei said, offering his hand.
