Finding Purgatory Read online

  With one last glare at Ariel’s head, Tori went to help Brooklyn find her missing flash drive. As she searched, she tried not to think about Ariel and how much it sucked that the hateful girl was her roommate. Being the Everett’s only biological offspring, it was only natural she was the favorite of all the children in the house, but why that meant she had to strut around like Queen Shit of Turd Island, Tori didn’t know.

  By the time she and Brooklyn found the flash drive, Shane was pulling up to the house. Tori rushed back to her room only to find the door locked. She pounded on it.

  “Busy,” Ariel yelled.

  Tori pounded again. “I need my jeans.” The music coming from behind the door got louder. Tori jiggled the door knob. “Ariel. Open the door.” Pissed as hell, she started to kick and hit at the door at random, screaming as she did. The music blared.

  “What the heck is going on up here?”

  Tori turned slightly to find her foster mother at the top of the steps, scowling as usual. She strode to Tori and grabbed her hand mid pound. “Haven’t you caused enough headaches today, Vicky? Cut it out.”

  “Don’t call me that.” Tori yanked her arm out of Stacey’s grasp and went back to pounding on the door. “I need my jeans.”

  “You won’t die without your jeans. Your social worker is here now.” She pressed her palm to Tori’s back, trying to push her in the direction of the stairs. “For once in your life can you not be a pain in the ass?”

  Tori pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth and pushed past Stacey. She didn’t want to go to this meeting in her school slacks, but her need to get away from her foster mother outweighed her need for comfortable pants. She stomped down the stairs and out the door.

  “Are you ready for this?” Shane asked as they pulled away.

  “Whatever.”

  Shane kept up a constant monologue as they drove, but that was his way. The park they were headed to wasn’t far, so Tori didn’t tell him to shut up like she wanted to. She balled her hands in fists, irritated with herself. Her throat was dry and her hands trembled. When they got closer to the park, her heart started to pound.

  “She’s already here,” Shane said as he stopped the car. Tori swallowed hard and raised her head.

  In her vague memories, Ani was an imposing figure. She was tall and beautiful—glamorous. When she was a very little girl who still played pretend, Tori had dreamed of the day she would be a big girl like Ani.

  The woman at the picnic table didn’t look glamorous. She wasn’t as tall as Tori remembered. She was small and short. Her hair, the same shade brown as Tori’s, didn’t flow loose and pretty around her, but was up in a simple ponytail. Tori remembered an Ani whose smile was patient, her lips shiny with lip gloss, with a cute button nose. This woman wore no makeup at all, and she looked tired. Her hands were folded on the table in front of her. Her head was tilted down.

  “Are you okay?” Shane asked.

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” Tori got out of the car.

  The sound of the car door shutting brought Ani’s head up. Tori froze. A weird sensation curled around her stomach. She didn’t care about her stranger-sister at all, was only going to this meeting to get Shane off her back, but when she saw Ani, her heart twisted with a hurt she didn’t realize was a bone-deep part of her.

  Ani pushed herself to her feet, her face blank. Gritting her teeth, Tori shook whatever she was feeling away. She didn’t want it, and this chick didn’t deserve it. She was nothing to Tori—a stranger.

  Tori strode forward and plopped down on the bench across from Ani, flashing a grin that was all teeth. “Hey, sis.”

  If she was shocked, Ani didn’t show it. She cocked her head, looking Tori over. Her smile was small and fake. “Hi, Victoria. I’m glad to see you.”

  “Well, I guess that makes one of us.”

  Ani’s brow furrowed, but Shane stepped up to them then. “Shane McCarty. We spoke on the phone.” The shook hands. “I brought some soda for us. You like Pepsi?” He took the chance to give Tori a glance that reinforced what he’d been saying in the car. He was there for her.

  Tori rolled her eyes, but she took a Pepsi. A few gulps and her throat didn’t resemble the Sahara.

  “I’ll take one. Thank you,” Ani said. “And thank you for bringing my sister.”

  Shane nodded. “I’ll let you talk.” He only moved as far as the opposite end of the picnic table and took out his phone.

  Ani turned to Tori and opened her mouth, then closed it again. Tori raised an eyebrow, not about to help her. Her sister reached into her pocket and took out what looked like a credit card. She held it up. “It’s a prepaid card. It’s almost Christmas. I wanted to bring something, but I figured I didn’t have a clue what you might like. I—”

  “Keep it. I don’t want anything from you.”

  Ani’s eyebrows furrowed. “I’d like you to have it. It wasn’t any trouble—”

  “I don’t really give a crap how much trouble it was or wasn’t. I don’t want it. In case you missed it the first time, I don’t really want to see you.”

  Tori expected Ani to look hurt, but she didn’t. She seemed more confused than anything. “If you didn’t want to see me, why did you agree to this?”

  Her tone was steady. If she wanted to play it cool, Tori could play that game. She crossed her arms and brought her feet up on the bench. “Tell me a bedtime story, sissy. I figure you wander back after all this time, the reason must be good. I’m not up to donating any bone marrow or organs if that’s what you want.”

  “I don’t . . . I don’t need anything from you. That’s not what this is about.”

  “So what is it about?”

  Something dark flitted across her sister’s features before the smooth mask was back. “I met a woman about a month ago whose fiancé had just died. She told me about him. How he’d spent the first five years of his life in a car with his mother before ending up in the foster care system. He had problems in school. She told me his first foster family gave him up because they didn’t have time to help him. His second family thought he was being stubborn and punished him by not letting him play with the other kids. He was with three other families, and none of them helped him.”

  “So some asshole you met couldn’t get through school. What does that have to with me? You want to help me with my homework?”

  Ani didn’t rise to her bait. “It was a domino effect. He ended up in a bad place, and he . . . he did something he couldn’t come back from. I don’t know.” She glanced at Shane and back at Tori. “I had this idea in my head that when children go into the system, they’re taken care of. You hear that people, kids, slip through the cracks, but I didn’t want to believe it was true. I started to wonder if you were as okay as I thought you were.”

  “Oh, I’m fucking fine and dandy.”

  Ani looked up. “I didn’t know. I really didn’t know about the adoption not going through. If I’d have known—”

  “You know what, no. Shut up. I’m not an idiot. Mom and Dad died, and you didn’t want to get stuck with a needy three-year-old. Whatever. But don’t sit there and act like you regret it. You didn’t have to walk away, and you did.”

  “Victoria—”

  “Hey, newsflash, sister dear. I survived. You can go back to whatever you were doing before you remembered me.”

  “That’s not what I want.”

  “So you do want something. Color me surprised.”

  “Take it down a notch,” Shane said.

  Tori threw her arms wide as she looked back to Ani. “Sorry. Go ahead. Tell me what you want. I am all ears.” She crossed her arms and stared, vindicated when Ani shifted under her gaze.

  Ani breathed in through her nose and out again. “I suppose I can’t tell you what I would have done if I’d known your adoption didn’t go through. It was a long time ago. I was nineteen when Mom and Dad died. Things that made sense to me then wouldn’t make sense to me no
w. That’s not an excuse, but there it is.”

  “Well, I feel better. Do you? Can you fuck off now?”

  “I . . .” It was gratifying to Tori to see Ani’s cool demeanor thrown off, to see her sputter. Ani huffed and looked down at her lap before she tried again. “I want you to know I’m here now. If you need something, anything, I can help.”

  “I don’t need anything from you.”

  “You’re going to be eighteen in a few more months. Do you need help with college or some place to live or—”

  “You want to give me something? How about you get out of my face, because I don’t want to see you. Ever. That’s what I need. Can you give me that?”

  The way Ani looked down at the table reminded Tori of a sad, bad dog. She rummaged through her purse. “This is my work phone,” she said as she set a business card on the table. Without looking at Tori, she printed something else in writing. “And this is my cell. If you need anything, you can call me. The door is open.” She looked up, right into Tori’s eyes as she stood. “Really. Anything at all.”

  Tori glared back at her and didn’t look at the card at all. She had the impulse to rip it to pieces, but that would have meant she had to acknowledge the thing was there in the first place.

  Ani nodded. “Okay,” she said, and she walked away.

  “Are you okay?” Shane asked after Ani had driven off.

  “Would you quit asking me that?”

  Shane didn’t answer. He stood and emptied the remains of their soda on the ground before he threw the cans in the recycle bin. “Come on, then. Let’s get you home.”

  Tori stood. There were tears in her eyes. That was making her even more pissed. She watched as Shane reached across the table to pick up Ani’s card. He hesitated a moment, but then he held it out to her. Tori stared at his hand for five full seconds before she grabbed the thing, stuffed it in her pocket, and stormed back to his car.

  Chapter 3: Just Another Woman Lost

  Tori sat across from the store manager, clenching her hands in fists to keep from wringing them. She had to keep reminding herself not to slouch. Authority figures were all about not slouching. As it was, she couldn’t bring herself to lift her head. It didn’t matter that she felt like sliding right onto the floor, adding to the collection of old stains on the threadbare carpet.

  The damning item she’d attempted to shoplift rested on the desk that separated them. There was no denying it when caught red-handed.

  The man sighed for what had to be the millionth time, and Tori couldn’t take the uncomfortable silence. “Look, it’s like I said. I panicked. I didn’t mean to take it, I swear, and—”

  “Can you pay for it?”

  She frowned and looked down again. Technically she could, but the money she had saved wasn’t on her, and she was sure the man wouldn’t believe her if she tried to tell him she’d be right back if he’d only let her go get it.

  “Under most circumstances, Miss Kane, I wouldn’t hesitate to involve the police. Kids . . . sometimes you need to be scared straight, in my experience.”

  Tori wanted to protest. She wanted to argue. Instead, she bit the inside of her cheek, sensing now wasn’t the time for her loose tongue.

  The man picked up her ID, turning it over and over in his hands. “You’re going to be eighteen in a few weeks.”

  “Yes.” Again, Tori resisted the urge to squirm. She was more than a little worried at the idea she might be prosecuted as an adult at this point were the man to press charges.

  He looked up, his ice blue eyes narrowing. “Yes, sir.”

  “Yes, sir.” She bit back a flash of anger before her sarcastic tongue could get her into worse trouble.

  The manager drummed his fingers on the desktop. Tori tried not to bristle.

  A full, tense minute passed.

  “Get out of here,” the man said, his voice gruff as he leaned back in his chair. “I don’t want to see you in this store ever again.”

  Tori blinked because luck was just not something she was used to. As soon as her brain started working again, she scrambled to her feet, ready to barrel by the scary-looking security guard who stood at the door, her stance menacing.

  “Miss Kane?” the manager called before she’d taken two steps.

  Tori winced and forced herself to turn back, imagining the security guard chick would probably tackle her to the floor if she tried to run as she desperately wanted to. The manager looked indecisive for a moment before he threw the item she’d been caught trying to steal at her. Tori caught it, looking at him with wide eyes.

  He grimaced, but his voice was gentle when he spoke. “Good luck.”

  Not for the first time, Tori wished like hell there was some private space in the godforsaken house she lived in. Then again, it occurred to her that if she were granted a single, impossible wish, it would be better spent wishing to undo what had led her to this moment in her life.

  For being such a small, simple thing, the pregnancy test that lay on the counter may as well have been an executioner’s signature. This had to be what it was like to be pressed to death. She hadn’t let herself think about why she needed a pregnancy test until she saw the two pink lines. After that, every thought added to the weight on her chest. The pressure was about to break her ribs and crush her flat.

  Then again, death would have been a blessing.

  She’d felt like this once before, a few years ago—out of control of her own body, her skin crawling with disgust. It was different, but too much the same.

  Stupid. The word screamed in her mind, loud and irate. How often had she closed her eyes these last few years and willed herself to believe the adults who told her things would get better, reasoning that, at the very least, it couldn’t get worse.

  Obviously something was out to prove her wrong on that account.

  Tori clapped a hand over her mouth just in time to smother the sob that rose to her throat. Her body shook, and she slid down the wall next to the tub, drawing her legs up tight against her as she began to cry in earnest.

  There was a gentle rap at the door.

  Tori tensed, panicking as she looked at the damning test and the cardboard box it had come in. She scrambled for it, throwing the test in the box and shoving it deep in the little trashcan by the toilet.

  “V?” Tori relaxed at the sound of Brooklyn’s voice. She was about the only person in the house she could tolerate just then. “Are you okay?”

  Choking back a bitter laugh, Tori sniffled and hiccupped, wiping at her face. She gave up after a moment, knowing it wasn’t any use. She wasn’t going to be able to hide her tears from the younger girl.

  Bracing her hand against the tub, Tori pushed herself upright and crossed the few steps to the door, turning the lock. She slumped back to the ground, her back against the bathroom wall, and rested her head on her knees as Brooklyn shuffled into the little room.

  “What happened?” The younger girl’s words were whispered as she slid down beside her. “Did Ariel do something?”

  “No.” The lump in her throat made it painful to speak and swallow.

  “Then what is it?” Brooklyn patted Tori’s back with tentative strokes. “Tell me.”

  It was a tempting offer. Just once in her life, Tori wanted someone to lean on, someone to tell her what the hell she was supposed to do. She was so tired.

  But no. Brooklyn was in no condition to help anyone. Telling her would just make her more anxious, and Tori would have to calm her down again.

  “It’s nothing,” she said finally. Rolling her head to the side to face the girl, she did her best to smile. “It’s just a bad night.”

  Brooklyn nodded. “Do you want to talk?”

  “No.” Tori’s tone was flat.

  “Okay.” Brooklyn shifted, resting her head on Tori’s. “I’ll just stay with you.”

  Tori let out a shuddering breath. She had to admit the girl’s friendly presence was a small, howev
er fractional, amount of comfort. “Okay. Thanks, Brook.”

  With her eyes closed, the sounds of her home reminded her of countless early Saturday mornings. On Saturdays, her internal clock woke her in the dawn hours, but there was no pressing need to get out of bed. She would drift, not really awake, listening to the birds outside and the faraway noise of the traffic on the freeway. The single clock she owned ticked in the living room. If she really thought about it, Ani could also hear the ambient buzz of the house’s electronics. She half expected to hear Jett’s steady breath in her ear and Mara’s soft snores from the monitor.

  It wasn’t Saturday morning. It was Thursday evening, and her house should not have been so silent. Even all these months later, it was unnatural. Ani ran her fingers through her hair and tugged.

  She’d set a goal for herself, but she had trouble remembering what she was supposed to be concentrating on. Apathetic about work and without a family to care for, Ani struggled to fill her nights and weekends. She sat with her hands on the keyboard of her laptop, but her attention was drawn to her memories. They were like cards being shuffled, one or another landing on top for seconds before it was shoved to the middle of the pile. One was a memory of Mara’s giggle, another Jett’s voice in her ear, another all the plans that were now scattered to the winds.

  Focus. But on what? Work? A new hobby? Tori?

  Tori. After so many years of not thinking about her at all, now Ani hadn’t been able to stop. The girl wanted nothing to do with her, and Ani couldn’t blame her for that. It had been five weeks since their meeting, and Ani had yet to stop obsessing about the things she could have said.

  Her little sister didn’t look how Ani had imagined. She looked a lot like their mother—light brown skin, dark brown hair—but with their father’s green eyes.