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I pull in my own irritated breath when she sighs in annoyance as I walk away. I spend the next half hour helping Jaden who is not only struggling in science but also with a grasp on any of his subjects. I don’t bother to glance back at Brielle.
Regardless of her history, she can’t expect others to do everything for her. This is a simple lesson she needs to learn. The world outside of this house isn’t going to be any kinder to her, and the expectancy and entitlement won’t get her very far.
“That’s great,” I tell Jaden when he finally gets a question right.
We’re taking very small steps, but any level of success should be celebrated.
“I think my brain is fried,” he mutters.
“It can be overwhelming.”
He shakes his head and swallows.
“No,” he says, pointing to his temple. “From the meth they were cooking in the house. I think it fried my brain.”
I can’t stop the look that crosses my face, a combination of disgust and utter shock.
He frowns at me, making me feel like a total tool. I’m so terrible at this. Victoria told me when I was completing the paperwork the other day that some of these kids have the worst stories. They’ve been through stuff too horrific to even put on television shows.
I reach my hand out to touch his shoulder, but draw it back immediately, remembering how he jolted away from me when I did it earlier.
Jesus, I feel so underqualified to be here.
“Jaden, you’ve earned a break, kiddo. Why don’t you head to the kitchen and see if Ms. Victoria is done making the morning snack?” Meagan says.
Jaden’s face transforms and he looks how any other adolescent boy would look at the mention of food.
“Please don’t run out of here,” Meagan says when he’s out of earshot.
“I’m not,” I tell her, but honestly, that thought had already begun to sink inside my brain. “But at the same time, I don’t feel very helpful. He thinks his brain is fried from people cooking meth around him.”
“He has some deficiencies we’re working through,” Meagan confirms. “But you helped him greatly today. Take the wins where you can.”
“I don’t feel very helpful,” I mutter, but then Meagan clamps her hand on my shoulder and urges me to turn around.
“That young woman has only stopped scrolling to write down the information you told her to,” Meagan says.
I watch Brielle touch the computer screen with her left hand so she can use her right to jot down the information she’s pointing to.
“That’s a huge win. Brielle has the weight of the world on her shoulders. She’s constantly angry. Refuses to do things out of spite, but somehow you got through to her on some level. That’s being helpful.”
“A win,” I whisper.
“A huge win,” Meagan agrees. “Now take it in the bites that are offered.”
“Ms. Meagan!”
We both look over to see a little girl no older than eight or nine wiggling in her seat with her waving hand in the air.
Meagan leaves me to tend to that girl, and I cross the room to check in with Brielle.
“There’s a scholarship for left-handed people. I’m not great at writing with my left hand, but I got pretty good at it when my right wrist was broken last year. Think I should apply for that one?”
Brielle looks up at me from her chair with hope in her eyes. It fades when I shake my head.
“There are loads of scholarships. We don’t have to lie to qualify for them.”
“I think—”
“Did you see the one for late graduates?” I interrupt. “It’s a five-thousand-dollar one.”
“Really?” she says, changing her tone immediately.
“It’s on page eight.”
“I’m already on page twelve. I must’ve missed it.”
Instead of expecting anything from me, she clicks on the eight at the bottom of the page and starts scrolling.
“There,” I say, pointing when she scrolls past it.
“Delayed College Entry? I thought that meant late in like the semester.”
Like I saw her do from across the room, she presses her finger to the screen and jots down the information in her notebook.
I spend another hour with Brielle, getting called away on occasion to help others before lunch.
When we leave in the early afternoon, Misty’s husband Shadow has joined Kincaid outside of the house to escort us home.
Staying busy and helping at the shelter made the time go quickly, but I get the feeling that time will crawl once I get back to the clubhouse.
Derrick hasn’t even been gone for twelve hours and I already miss him like crazy.
Chapter 23
Oracle
I’ve seen some shit in my lifetime. I doubt there is a single member on any of the Cerberus teams who doesn’t have stories that would make the average person lose their lunch and then refuse every meal after for a week in fear of getting sick again.
