Page 46 of Dirty Liars
She brightens a little. “Well, you seem to have landed yourself in tall cotton, and I’m going to make sure that you stay there. I’m going to sign you out of here as your guardian, and then send you back to your school. And you, well … you’re going to owe me then, aren’t you? You’re going to owe me so much.”
I sit up in the bed with some effort and look hard at her. “What do you want from me?”
“You’re all set up in that fine and fancy school. It’s all paid for, isn’t it?” She leans closer to me and her voice drops low. “I know how these places work. You think you’re the only girl around here who knows how to run a good scam?”
She eyes me with a stare that makes my blood boil.
“You’re going to go back to that school of yours, and you’re going to start taking money out of your account every week. And don’t think you can try to tell me you don’t have an account. Brats at these schools always have an account. Think of it as a stipend … or insurance. Insurance that I won’t turn your sorry ass in.”
I gape at her in horror. “No …” My heart has stopped in my chest. I’ve already taken so much from the Whites, I can’t do any more.
“Oh yes.” She smiles wickedly. “How does five hundred bucks a week sound to you? I’ve seen the way the Whites live. That’s chump change to them.”
I shake my head. “I can’t do that, it’s not my money to give.”
“Well now, I guess that’s your problem, isn’t it?” Ms. Martin cocks her head to one side thoughtfully. “Well, missy? What’s it going to be? Will you be a student or a felon? It’s your choice, though … ” she checks her broken watch, “you’d better decide fast, I parked in a metered spot.”
I close my eyes and struggle to hold in the tears. If only I hadn’t gone to that party, none of this would be happening. If I just told Dana the truth about my grades, she never would have let me go. I never would have taken those pills.
There’s no way out it. I’ve already come too far for it to end now. I have to try to do everything I can to make a future for myself, and that means that I have be at the school.
It also means that I’m going to have to play along with Ms. Martin until I can figure out a way to stop her. Maybe I’ll get lucky and she’ll be hit by a cross-town bus.
“I’m going back to school,” I reply with a tight voice, wrestling my emotions back. I refuse to appear weak in front of her.
She gives me a hard look. “And?”
“And I’ll send you five hundred dollars a week.”
“Good girl. Now I’ll go sign you out. You can find your own way back to the school. Can’t leave the kids alone for too long, you know.”
Left alone too long?They shouldn’t be left alone at all.
She stands up and heads for the door and I think back on the little ones I’ve left behind. Just one more heap of guilt to add to the rest. I’ve been so self-obsessed these past months, I never even thought of them once.
“How are they?” I ask, fearing the worst.
Ms. Martin turns and looks over her shoulder at me. “They’re alive.”
With that, she turns and leaves, closing the door behind her and sealing my fate right along with it.
CHAPTER19
I’m strandedat the hospital with no way home, and I can only think of one person to call. I hate doing it, but at least he picks up on the first ring.
“Hey Blair, it’s Sadie,” I begin. I never planned on using it, but he’s tried slipping me his phone number so many times that it turns out I have it memorized by now.
He peppers me with questions until I have to cut him off.
“I’m okay. They’re letting me go. I guess my mom had to leave in a hurry so, I’m kind of stuck here at the hospital and I don’t have a ride back to school.” I glance over at the nurse behind the counter, but she isn’t paying any attention to me. I’m so used to people thinking I’m going to try to steal everything within sight, including an old curly-cord landline like the one I’m using now.
I know Blair mentioned he had a motorcycle, but I don’t want to have to outright ask him. I would’ve already taken a bus … if I had any money for the bus … but I’m not going to tell him that. Ms. Martin might know my secret, but so far she’s the only one.
“Don’t say another word. I’m on it.”
Half an hour later he walks through the door of my room with a bag in his hand and a worried look on his face. “How’re you feeling?” he asks again, coming up to me and searching my face for any signs of imminent death.
“I’m all right. I’m just kind of tired, and I’m super stressed about my mid-term.” It’s not the only thing I’m stressed about, but I can’t exactly tell him my foster mother is blackmailing me to send her five hundred dollars of someone else’s money every week.
