Always true to his word Mr. Phoenix got my online schooling in order. He was letting me use his laptop in order to do my lessons and got me supplies for notes and possible homework. Even though the whole concept was practically homework. After taking my placement test at a rather shady looking building the day before it was deemed I was a sophomore. Apparently if I hadn't placed so well during the science portion I'd be considered a freshman.
It was boring. I was listening to lectures. Taking notes. All the while sitting in the Phoenix's empty home. I always tried to do as much as I could in the allotted time. Typing my questions on to the virtual message board. I felt less anxiety doing so since I was doing everything at my own pace. It had been a couple days but I was getting the hang of it.
Since it was Wednesday Rylie returned from school earlier than usual. His school hours were nine to four while his eldest brothers went from eight to two thirty. So on Wednesdays Rylie was out by two. He said they were half days. I didn't see it as much of a half. The elevator dings and as usual Rylie comes in. His dress code consisted of Khaki or navy pants, a crisp white button down, black or brown dress shoes, and a navy blue blazer with the tie being optional.
I couldn't wrap my head around the reason he'd want to go to a private school but it was apparent he enjoyed it. Rylie was a smart kid. I'd say smarter than average. He throws his blazer over the couch and flops down grabbing the remote. I was sitting in the kitchen. The laptop on the island with one of the textbooks I had been given next to me.
Rylie leisurely flickers through the channels while removing his shoes and unbuttoning his school shirt to reveal the grey T-shirt he had under it. He grumbles a hello to me as makes his way to the fridge to grab the necessities to make himself a sandwich, "Are you coming to dinner tonight?"
I was taken aback by the casual question. Rylie and I may have shared his room and home but we rarely exchanged words to each other. He was chatty and jovial with his brothers and dad but never to me. His question also confuses me, "What dinner?"
He takes a bite of his sandwich, "Lila's." I make a face trying to remember the name, "Chases daughter. My niece. It's her birthday. She's turning eight. We've been discussing it for over a week."
I bite the inside of my cheek, "I must not have been listening," dinner didn't sound appealing. I had still been vomiting like clockwork. Certain smells and foods had me racing towards the bathroom. I had been hiding it pretty well. I'd just speed walk out the room and let the faucet run if I felt the urge. It had been drowning the sound out well enough.
"So are you coming?"
"I don't know," I reply with a shrug, "That seems more like a private thing. I wouldn't want to intrude."
Rylie looked as though he was going to say something but thought better of it, "My dad might force you to come though. So, if you don't want to you better have a good excuse or life threatening illness by six," he gives me a playful grin and proceeds to leave going upstairs.
I close the laptop with a sigh. If I were to be technical my possible predicament could be life threatening but in different ways.
•••
I didn't exactly have an excuse. So when they were getting dressed and I was sat on the couch looking for a show to watch Mr. Phoenix took notice, "Why aren't you getting ready?" He asks the question while tying his tie.
"I'm not going. It's like a family thing right?"
"Chase invited you."
"I didn't ask to be invited."
Mr. Phoenix sighs sensing the end of are quiet exchange. The air had shifted in the Phoenix residence. What was once just a quiet chatty environment was now still quiet but we all seemed to be walking on eggshells. It was definitely my fault but I would never admit that out loud. Their house phone rings in the distance as I scroll the guide.
Mr. Phoenix gets it by the third ring and stops buttoning his cuffs with a deep frown edged on his face, "Yes. Send them up," he looks at me with slightly narrowed eyes, "Why are the police here?"
I freeze. Carter, Cameron, and Rylie's brows shoot up, "I don't know," I answer while swallowing hard.
He looks towards the elevator, "Aaron, if you did something you need to tell me now."
The elevator dings, "I didn't do anything," I hiss out and Mr. Phoenix makes a motion for me to be quiet.
"Evening, Officers. How can I help you?"
"Sorry to disrupt your evening, Mr. Phoenix but we need to ask Aaron Hendrix a few questions. It's on file that you've been fostering her."
He nods and motions me to come over. He tells the boys to go upstairs. Mr. Phoenix sits next to me on the couch the officers stay standing, "We need you to answer a few questions about a group home you were in. Possibly make some I.D's," the first officer whom was a large and broad dark skin man with a bald head.
"O-okay."
"You resided in Saint Mary's in east Harlem correct?"
"Y-yes for two years."
"How would you describe your experience?"
I clench a fist full of my pant leg. It was awful. Disgusting. We were barely fed. The woman who worked there sister Green whom was a supposed nun had nothing godlike about her. She was a pimp. A trafficker. A dealer. She sold us to gangs and overall disgusting men. We were brutalized and sometimes a few girls were never seen again. Every weekend a select few of us were dolled up to make our adolescent years of age look twenty one and up.
Then strange men in dark cars and tinted windows would pick us of out of a line up and take us to some shady places. They'd pay sister green and she'd just hand us over whispering an eery 'do what he says' in our ear. They'd have sex with us. Sodomize us. Drug us. Beat us. Pass us around to their friends. Morbidly it was better to go with a group to prolong your turn.
I bite the inside of my cheek. It was a known rule we were to never speak about the happenings in that awful place. Sister would know if you spoke about the things that happened behind those doors. There were consequences.
"W-what, uh, what is this about?"
The bald officer looks to his partner. He was a Hispanic man with nicely cropped dark hair with salt and pepper streaks and deep tanned skin. He had the same build as his counterpart just more stocky. He nods letting him know it was okay to speak about it, "There was an incident. A local gang looked as though they tore the place up inside out. There was gun fire."
"G-gun fire?" Destiny. "Are the girls okay?"
The Hispanic officer clears his throat, "Some of them sustained some injuries, a few of them are missing and there were five casualties."
Destiny.
"We can't figure out why anyone would target a group home for girls thats why we're asking young ladies who've actually lived there. The other girls who currently reside there won't talk."
Destiny.
"It was awful," I start with a shake in my voice, "The lady who runs it. She's not...She's not very holy. She sold us. Pimped us out."
"Are you saying that it was a sex trafficking rink?" The bald officer was writing down on notepad.
"Yes."
"Not to say I don't believe that but are you sure?" The Hispanic officer sends me a pointed look.
"The gang was ran by a thirty something year old man named Demarco Correct?"
"We can't disclose that information but the name sounds familiar, yes."
"He was frequent. Always coming there with his guys. He and sister Green had an agreement. He paid her as long as she kept her supply up. Girls, drugs, sometimes she didn't stay on top of her supply and he would come and take matters into his own hands."
They look at each other, "If we showed you some pictures could you possibly identify some of the girls?'
Destiny.
"Yes. But um, Do you know if Destiny Richards is okay?"
The bald cops looks through his note pad, "We haven't got that name down but she could possibly be one of the missing girls," there was an unspoken look in his eyes telling me she could also be one of the girls who lost their lives.
Please be okay.
He lays a series of Photo's on the table. They look they had been taken after the incident. The girls looked banged up. Wearing hospital gowns and ratty clothes. I name off at leat six of them immediately. They were close to my age and who it didn't get along with during my time. Two of whom were dead. The next set I could only recognize about three by first name. They were younger but I remember Destiny talking about them.
She's okay.
He lays another set on the table it was five photos. He continuously apologized for me having to see them They usually didn't let minors see the photos. but apparently a lot of files were missing and not many of the girls had criminal records. I only looked at the five photos for two seconds when I recognized her face. The pale skin. The dark beauty mark by her chin. The freckles. Her eyes were a blackish blue hue swollen shut and didn't even look as though they could be opened. A deep colored bruise on her neck.
Destiny.
I pick up the photo with shaky hands, "T-this girl," I swallow, "her, uh, h-her name is Destiny Richards. Is she okay?"
The Hispanic officer takes the photo from my hand and he didn't even have to say it. He and the other officer shared a look before their sympathetic gazes landed on me. I clutched at Mr. Phoenix's forearm a little below his wrist. I'm sure my nails dug into the skin.
I couldn't breathe. We had just messaged each other. I talked to her everyday. Every night. My heart was pounding too fast. I monotonously recited the name of two girls I recognized. I had given the officer the number of Destiny's parents to contact them or at least I think I did. Everything went through one ear and came out the other. I felt like I was under water.
I stared at the floor. This couldn't be happening. I only let go of Mr. Phoenix when he escorts the officers to the elevator. My teeth were grinding together. I felt sick. Angry. Shattered. I had just talked to her earlier. We didn't talk about much. She discussed school. A girl she was crushing on. Me visiting this weekend. Her parents. Her parents. She was set to go home early next month. Her parents got jobs. They had a nice apartment from what she told me.
Mr. Phoenix comes back to the couch. He gingerly sits beside me, "She was only eleven," He doesn't say anything back. They were late for the dinner. A firm and warm hand grasps my own. I clutch at it. I inhale a shaky breath and angrily wiped the tears that were threatening to fall. I snatch my hand away Mr. Phoenix's.
Carter, Cameron, and Rylie come down the stairs a few moments later. The air was thick. I wanted to scream. Break something. Talk to destiny. I had just talked to her earlier. My throat was tightening as I stood in my spot. I just couldn't move. I felt like I couldn't breathe. Mr. Phoenix murmurs something to Carter and he nods. They leave the condo.
"I had just talked to her earlier," I whisper into the silence. Mr. Phoenix's eyes hold nothing. Not even sympathy. I was grateful for that. I flop myself back on the couch. Roughly rubbing under my eyes and nose again, "She was the only friend I had in that horrible place. I looked after her the best I could."
I could feel myself shaking, "I should of just went back when she asked me," I bury my head in my hands. I couldn't stop the sob from ripping from my throat. I had just talked to her earlier. I was trembling. Mr. Phoenix wraps his arm around my shoulder. I cry harder. I had just talked to her earlier. She was going home next month. She was just a child. Helpless. Defenseless. Yet someone decided she didn't deserve to live. That same person would most likely never be caught.
How was that fair?