“I love it. Thank you, Crosby.” Zoe struggled to meet my gaze but forced herself to do it. I was so damn proud of her in that moment. It was always like this the first few meetings, a bit of backsliding on the progress you’d made during the session before, but we’d find our way.
“You’re welcome, but it was actually my friend, Penny, and her knitting club that got it all for you.”
“But they don’t even know me.”
My gut twisted at her confusion. “I told them about you and what an awesome kid you are. They wanted to do something nice for you.”
Zoe’s eyes began to water. If she cried, I wouldn’t be able to handle it. “W-will you tell them thank you?”
“You got it. So, what do you think? Soccer today, or do you want to work on your coloring?”
Zoe beamed. “Soccer. Did you see the ball they got me?”
“They got you a soccer ball?”
She dug through the bag and pulled out a brand-new ball. “Now, I can practice all the time.” Zoe frowned down at the ball. “If the Calhouns let me.”
I tensed at the little girl’s dejected expression. “Are they being nice to you?”
She licked her lips and spun the ball in circles in her hands. “They’re fine.”
It sure as hell didn’t sound fine. I didn’t care what Callie said, if Zoe didn’t look happier about her foster placement soon, I was going to make that unannounced visit. “You know you can tell me if you don’t like it there.”
Her head popped up. “And I can go back with my mom?”
“Sorry, Zo. You can’t go back with your mom right now. Not until she gets some help.”
Zoe hugged the ball tighter to herself. “I don’t think I want to play today.”
“That’s all right. We can do whatever you want to do.”
She nodded and stared down at the ball, tracing patterns with her fingertip on the surface. That was how we spent the next hour. I didn’t push, just sat with Zoe. She was mad but didn’t yet believe that I was a safe place for her to express that anger. But I’d sit with her for as long as it took to gain her trust.
As I helped to load her new belongings into Mrs. Calhoun’s beat-up station wagon, I made sure to snap a picture of the license plate. I knew Child Protective Services put foster families through rigorous checks, but it wouldn’t hurt to do a little digging on my own.
“See you soon, Zoe.”
“Bye, Crosby,” she mumbled and climbed into the car.
A sinking feeling gripped me as I watched them go. And I’d learned not to ignore those feelings.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. Pulling it out, I glanced at the screen. That same six-one-seven area code that had been calling for days stared back at me. Alicia had called and texted six times last night alone. When I’d walked out of Kenna’s guest house at one a.m. and checked my phone, not even a reemergence of my ex could’ve ruined my buzz. But now, in the light of day, hours from when I’d gotten my last hit of Kenna’s skin, her scent, the feel of her around me, it cut a little deeper.
I hit Accept. “When someone doesn’t return your texts or calls, the polite thing is to stop blowing up their phone.”
“Crosby.” Alicia’s voice did that breathy thing it did when she wanted something. I’d always thought it was ridiculous, but four years ago, I’d thought it was adorably ridiculous. Now, it was simply annoying.
“What do you want?” I beeped the locks on my truck and climbed in.
“We need to talk. Can you come to Boston this weekend?”
I laughed, but it had an ugly quality to it. “Only you would think I’d come when you call after you blew my life apart.”
“Crosby…” She was whining now. “I made a mistake. I’m sorry. Isn’t that enough? Brent wasn’t the man I thought he was. But maybe that’s a blessing in disguise. You and I were so good together.”
She made it sound as if she’d forgotten to let the dog out, and it peed on the rug. I’d given my all to this woman. I’d worked endless hours at the firm to make partner because she wanted me to be the best. Now, I could see it was because she wanted the status of being attached to someone at the top. I’d funded endless shopping sprees and vacations. Bought the