a threat to separate us.”
And since they had only each other, that threat would be worse than anything else. “Separate you how?”
“Boarding school, summer camp, things like that. Looking back, I realize those were idle threats because Dad never spent money on things like that for us. He says that he wanted us to grow up independent of his wealth and social standing. He wanted us to make our own way.”
“So you attended public school?”
“Yes. We aced classes and we were always well dressed, because anything less would have reflected on him. But the extracurricular stuff that helps you bond with peers, like band or dance or drama…no way. I think that’s why Molly turned to books.”
“As an escape?”
“Yes. And it turned out well since she’s now a very popular writer.”
Jett could hear the pride whenever Natalie talked of her sister, but he knew that Natalie must have been equally influenced by the conditions of her life. “Why’d you become a teacher?”
The defroster ran on high, and still it could barely keep the ice off the windshield. More and more cars and trucks were showing up in ditches and over the median. Buddy now treated them to the resonance of a doggy snore. The weather outside the SUV served to blanket them in a unique form of intimacy. Jett could almost hear his own heartbeat, and hers.
For only a moment she looked out the side window, but then she turned her gaze back to Jett, searching for understanding, for things he desperately wanted to give her.
“I always remembered how it felt,” she whispered. “All though school, I was different when I shouldn’t have been. Unlike the kids who had real issues, my life was charmed.”
Would she always be so hard on herself? “Your issues were real.”
Natalie shook her head, and her hands fisted. “Not really, not like the kid who’s being physically abused at home, or the child with a physical or mental deformity. Even compared to the kids who were just unpopular because they weren’t as pretty or as well-to-do as some of the others, I was better off.” She stared at Jett. “Kids can be so damn cruel, when being a kid is hard enough.”
That bothered Jett because for him, life had been pretty fantastic. He couldn’t remember ever being singled out for any unfavorable reason. Usually just the opposite.
His classmates had liked him; he’d been one of the popular kids.
He’d done his fair share to combat bullies, and whenever possible he’d gone out of his way to befriend the kids who were ostracized. But then, he’d had parents who taught him sympathy and compassion in the same way that they’d encouraged him in everything from sports to education to…any damn thing he’d ever wanted to do.
“So like my sister, I’m glad for what my upbringing brought me. It’s taught me how to recognize the kids who are really troubled, and now I’m in a position to help. At least most of the time.”
“Most of the time?”
“There was one boy…he was so withdrawn, so antagonistic. I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t realize how bad it was. He wouldn’t confide in me, and I couldn’t reach his mother on the phone.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “He was homeless, Jett. His dad had passed away and his mother took off on her own, and he had…no one.”
Despite the treacherous conditions of the icy road, Jett reached for her hand. “You can’t know everything about everybody, honey. Kids are good at hiding things, especially when they feel shamed by their circumstances.”
Natalie nodded without conviction. “Only a few days after I went to the administration to request that they somehow get hold of his parents, they found his body in an alley. Accidental overdose, they said.”
Jett cursed softly, hurting for Natalie and for the boy who’d been neglected. “Nothing hits you like the death of a kid.”
Her hand clutched his hard. “You say that like a man with personal experience.”
“Yeah.” He shifted, uncomfortable with some memories. “I’ve been hired to find plenty of runaways.” And those were always the most urgent cases for him. “Sometimes the end result is good, sometimes not.”
To let her know that he did understand, Jett expounded on one experience. “There was this mom who hired me to locate her thirteen-year-old daughter. The girl had left home and was missing for three weeks.”
“You found her?”
He’d found her all right—and thank God that he had. “She wanted no part of going home. Turns out, her stepdaddy