Page 4 of Rescuer
Mia didn’t share Emma’s relief. Two young children, no older than seven or eight, sat on the front porch, playing. “Do you have a babysitter?”
“What?” Emma’s eyes flashed to her siblings. “Oh, nah. I guess she knew I’d be home sometime.”
Mia stiffened. The casual excuse informed Mia that seeing the children home alone was a normal thing. She didn’t trust herself to speak, so she confined her response to a nod.
Emma opened the door and slid out of the vehicle. Mia waited until the teenager had taken her brothers into the house before reversing out of the driveway. She headed back to the school, seething.
She wanted to help Emma. But what could she do? She wasn’t a counselor. This was a delicate situation, and she had to step carefully. If only there were a pregnancy center in Renegade to recommend. The wish to help and the inability to do so tore at her frayed nerves.
No matter how hard she tried, she was never enough.
She needed that money from her summer job if she was going to make a difference.
At the intersection, she headed toward the school district campus. She recalled her promise to call Shannon King, the school nurse, who happened to be Mia’s best friend since college. Shannon had been the one to inform Mia when the position for a learning support teacher had opened up at Renegade South High School.
She punched Shannon’s button on the dashboard, then drummed her fingers and waited for her one and only friend to pick up the phone. Mia had tried to keep her distance when she’d walked into her dorm room for the first time to see the perky blonde hanging posters on the wall. Shannon seemed to see that as a challenge. After a month of resisting, Mia had given in. When she’d left Renegade after college, they’d maintained contact.
Shannon still didn’t know why Mia kept to herself and had no other friends, or why she had ghosted her parents for years. That was one reason Mia loved her. She didn’t try to force her way past the invisible boundaries Mia had drawn.
“Mia! What’s up?” Shannon’s bubbly voice oozed down the line. “Did you get your money?”
“Not yet. I got distracted?—”
“Mia! You need to get paid! Didn’t you tell me that’s the only way you can afford to finish your counseling degree and open the pregnancy center? Girl, you’ve been talking about that for years!”
Shannon knew Mia’s dreams. Just not why they meant so much.
“Trust me, I realize that. Look, I called because I need your help.” She quickly described Emma’s situation. “Shan, the poor kid. And to have no one at home? I feel so helpless. I know we can’t help everyone, but we should be able to help her. Right?”
Shannon bit off what could only be described as a growl. “I thought something was up with Emma’s family situation, but I could never prove it. Are you sure there was no one at the house?”
“I’m sure. Those littles, they were just hanging out on the porch, waiting. I have no idea how long. According to Emma, her mom just ‘figured’ she’d be home at some point.”
Heat simmered in her gut. Anything could have happened to them.
“I’m going to have to ChildLine this, you know that.” The bubbly tones had molded into steel.
“Yeah. I know. I just hate that she’s suffering.”
“I get it. Look, I’ll keep you informed. At least, I’ll tell you what I can. You know I can’t break confidentiality.”
“I do. I appreciate it.” It was on the tip of her tongue to explain why she felt so strongly about Emma’s situation, but she couldn’t bring herself to say it. “I’m back at the district office. I need to go see if they can help me get my paycheck.”
“I’ll let you go. I’ll say a prayer.”
“Um, bye.” Mia hung up. “That was a jerk move, Mia. Shannon was trying to be supportive. But she should know I’m not into that God stuff anymore.”
Shannon had grown up in a Christian home, vibrant with love and faith. The only thing vibrant in Mia’s home had been the facade her parents put on when they were in public. Both Mia’s parents had been cold guardians.
Sometimes she envied Shannon.
She parked her car and turned it off. Sucked in a deep, bracing breath, held it, then slowly released it. She could do this.
She opened her door, then marched up the walkway leading to the district office and pushed the buzzer. When the door clicked, she opened it and walked into the main office. Instantly, cool air whooshed over her, hitting the sweat dotting her neck. She shivered.
Casually, she glanced around, her gaze taking in the closed door to the superintendent’s office. It looked dark beyond the frosted glass.
Blaine Turner, her father, wasn’t in.
