Miss McCoy puts her arm around my shoulder and leads me down to her car. I’d know that old Honda Civic anywhere. Time and again, this car has carried me to some foreign, unknowable place to survive among the hostile natives. I laugh humorlessly to myself—I’m sure that Columbus and Magellan never felt so bitterly toward their vessels. Maybe that’s been my problem this whole time...I’ve just needed a better ship.
“You OK spending the day with me?” Miss MacCoy asks, “I don’t want to leave you alone on Christmas Eve, but no one else is really around to—”
“It’s fine,” I tell her.
We drive along in silence, for a spell. The Daniels’ rundown house disappears around the corner for the last time. I think of all the homes I’ve left behind so far in my life. I’ve said goodbye to my parents’ home, the place where I spent the earliest and best years of my life.
I’ve left the rowdy Goldstein’s place behind, with all its memories of truncated childhood. I’ve been snatched from the jealous Cheryl’s apartment, and taken out of Mrs. Tyson’s would-be convent. But never before has a goodbye seemed so final as this one.
“I just don’t understand, Nadia,” Miss MacCoy begins. “If things were so terrible with the Daniels, why didn’t you just tell me? You’ve always been so honest with me about your foster families.”
“I guess things weren’t always so terrible,” I shrug, as Trace’s gorgeous green eyes float up to the forefront of my memory.
“The police told me everything you guys said. Is it true that Paul and Nancy were drinking? That they hit the boys?”
“Yes,” I admit softly, “Yes, that’s all true.”
“Well Christ, Nadia, don’t you think that’s information I might need to have?” Miss MacCoy asks, exasperated. “You could have gotten seriously hurt. If what you’re saying about last night is true, then—”
“What, you think I’m lying?” I ask, more hurt than angry.
“No, of course not,” Miss MacCoy says quickly. “I just...I don’t get it, Nadia. I could have gotten you out of there. Why did you just sit silently by while all of this was going on?”
“I...I didn’t want to leave,” I say, realizing that it’s the truth.
“How can that be?” Miss MacCoy asks.
“I had good company,” I tell her. “Conway, and Garrick, and...Trace.”
My social worker looks over at me, suddenly comprehending. “Trace,” she says, “I see.”
“Yeah.”
“Is that why he...? You two had a thing together?”
“It wasn’t a thing,” I tell her, “It was...We just cared about each other. He cared about me. He understood me.”
“So he was trying to save you, last night,” Miss MacCoy says.
“He did save me,” I say, “And now he’s going to end up in juvie, all because of me.”
“He will probably go to jail,” Miss MacCoy says, her voice pained, “But not because of you. He made his own choice, Nadia.”
“But Paul would have raped me,” I say, pleading with her to see the injustice, “Doesn’t that mean anything? Doesn’t Trace get a little credit for getting that fucking monster away from me?”
“With his past charges and the drugs they found in the house?” Miss MacCoy says, “No. Probably, it won’t count for much. He might be able to get a lesser sentence than murder, but it’s not like his record is clean, Nadia. Whatever happens to Trace has been in the works for far longer than you’ve known him.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” I say.
“You’ll see,” Miss MacCoy tells me, “When you get a little distance, you’ll see how much was already stacked against him. The best thing you could have done to him was be a friend, and you did. I’m sure that will always mean a lot to him.”
“Great,” I mutter, closing my fingers around my necklace. I slide Trace’s map along the chain, letting it fall against my compass. By the time we both come down from this, I might need a map if I’m ever going to find him again. But probably, that won’t be necessary.
Probably, the glimpse I caught of Trace as he was lowered into that cop car will be my last. Maybe they’ll call me in to testify at his trial, but I doubt they’ll even need me. The case against Trace is clear, to them. He’s a foster kid, a reject, a bad seed. They’ll put him away for however long they please and never think twice about it. No one but me will ever know that he was in the right, attacking Paul. No one else will care.
Just when I was starting to think that at least law and order were the slightest bit cut and dry, I’m proved wrong yet again. There’s nothing fair or easy about this world, this life, and I won’t forget that again. All we can do is stand up for what we think is right and support those who do. Even if I never see Trace again, I’ll never forget what he did for me. What he sacrificed in order to keep me safe. I can only hope that, somewhere down the line, he finds it in his heart to forgive me.
I turn my face toward the window to hide my fresh wave of tears from Miss MacCoy. Wordlessly, we make our way once more to the unknowable next best thing.
~~~
The End
...for now.
Stay tuned for the next book in Nadia & Trace's saga.
Table of Contents
Copyright
Forward
Prologue Nadia: Where am I?
One Nadia: Officially an orphan.
Two Nadia: Sweet Sixteen.
Three Nadia: Him
Four Trace: Who is this girl?
Five Trace: Don't fuck with my friends.
Six Nadia: A New Home
Seven Nadia: Creepy Fucking Paul
Eight Trace: Almost Happy
Nine Trace: Hard Truths
Ten Trace: Girlfriend and Boyfriend
Eleven Nadia: The Cold of Winter
Twelve Nadia: All Alone With Paul
Thirteen Trace: Merry Christmas
Fourteen Nadia: Trace's Gift
Fifteen Trace: Dead Fucker
Sixteen Nadia: Another End Of The World
Falling Further Page 13
