“They’re good kids.”
“How old are they?”
“Fifteen.” He cleared his throat. “Technically, the twins aren’t in foster care. They’re a part of the Kinship Care program.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s similar, but it’s specifically for families.”
“So they’re…”
“They’re my cousins. Well, their mom is my cousin.”
“And she’s…?”
“In and out of rehab.”
“I see.” Anne looked out at the greenery flashing past her window. In the distance, an African tulip tree blazed with orange flowers.
“Do I know her?” she asked after a while. “Their mom?”
“I don’t think so. She lived with me and my grandma for a little while when we were young, but then she went to live with her dad on Maui. She and the kids wound up at A Place of Refuge a few years back, but… I guess she never quite got her life together. Not for long, anyway.”
“Those poor kids.”
“They’re tough,” he said. “They’re alright.”
Anne pressed her lips together, holding back her doubts. She had seen how deeply relatively small disruptions affected kids that age. To grow up on such shifting sands – their father either absent or abusive, their mother an addict, homeless at least once – was a brutally difficult way to grow up.
She had known plenty of kids from situations like those – and in her experience, none of them were ever really ‘alright’.
Her preconceptions were confirmed when they pulled into a convenience store parking lot in Hilo to pick up a kid who had obviously just been in a fight. He had a split lip, and one side of his face was swollen; he’d have a black eye tomorrow.
“What happened to you?” Noah blurted when his cousin climbed into the back seat.
The kid didn’t answer. He just looked between Noah and Anne.
“Sorry.” Noah let out a frazzled sigh and ran a hand through his hair. “Jayce, this is Anne. Anne, Jayce.”
“Sorry I messed up your date,” Jayce muttered.
“Who was it?” Noah asked. “Do you know them?”
Jayce shut his mouth and looked out the window.
“Was it adults or those kids from school? I at least need to know that much.”
“Why?”
“Do we need to file a report at the police station or schedule a meeting with the principal?”
“You don’t need to tell nobody. It’s not that big a deal.”
“Jayce.” Noah’s voice was firm.
“Kids,” he grumbled.
Noah sighed. “Okay. We’ll talk about it later.”
