I laugh at that. “Yeah, thanks needed that morale boost.”

He salutes me. “Anytime, now nap while I find our girl.”

“Our girl?” I repeat with a smile.

“Ours.” He nods. “Always been ours. Maybe all the haters are true; maybe we really do share.”

“In this case, I’m okay with it,” I say. “Find her.”

“Consider her found.”

The door clicks shut, and I try calling her again, only to have it go to voicemail. “Please find her, Quinn. Please.”

My eyes flutter closed, and the last thing I see is her smile and then her tears.

I wish I could wipe them away, only to realize I’m crying again as a tear slides down my cheek to my pillow.

I always wanted to be left alone.

And now I am.

Fuck.

Chapter Forty-One

Mary-Belle

I’m eighteen. I can’t go back into the system, and I still need to graduate. Will my tuition still be paid for? Do I even want to risk going back, or should I try to get my GED?

So many thoughts haunt me as I walk down the hot street; the pavement feels like it’s melting into my old black slides.

I look down at them just as I stumble—the right one breaks right by my left toe, I have a bad habit of stretching them out when I’m sitting—and now I’m going to need duct tape to revive them.

Of course, it would be today of all days. I almost laugh because, again, of course.

I could use the two hundred dollars I saved up from Ambrose’s mom to go to the dollar store and buy some flip-flops, but I have no idea how close that is, and I need to save for food and shelter.

I turned off my phone for a minute, afraid that Ambrose would be sending me angry texts, afraid I’d answer and that he’d maybe be the amazingly decent man I’ve come to know and tell me to come back to him only to deal with guilt every day of my life.

I don’t know why today, of all days, the universe decided to have the hottest day from hell, but I keep stumbling down the sidewalk with my black trash bag.

How perfect, this ending, just like the beginning. I’m brought back to my first foster home, sweaty and gross, walking into an air-conditioned home, hoping that I could at least have water and getting it.

I’d never had ice before in my water, everything was tap, and then I had ice, and I thought, wow, this is how rich people live, with tiny ice cubes and air conditioning.

I don’t know how long I walk, but it starts to get dark, and I’m seeing part of the city from Ambrose’s private suburb, the night sky is lit up. My phone isn’t on still, I wonder if he’s okay, I feel stupid that I’m acting like this, but I don’t think I can take much more heartache, and I don’t think I can trust myself in his life when all I’ve done is ruin it.