Chapter 11

Early the next morning, the doorbell rang. The jerk was still asleep, and his mother was cooking, so Zoe sighed, zipping up her jacket, and answered it.

Standing on the doorstep were Trina's parents.

Zoe slammed the door and took off for the back door, having no desire to speak to them. Her desire not to attract attention from her foster mother meant that she couldn't move quickly, unfortunately, and when she opened it she was confronted with a slightly out-of-breath Thomas.

"Please, Zoe, let us explain," he said, trying to catch his breath. "It's not what you think it is."

"I have nothing to say to you," she said, gritting her teeth. "I am trying to maintain control of myself, but I'm not succeeding very well! Please leave!" Her voice rose slightly with each word, until she was very nearly yelling.

Thomas took a step backwards, sagging slightly, before he straightened. "No. Not until you at least know the truth. We weren't there to adopt Brenna."

He held up his hand at the mixture of relief, confusion, and then rage that swept over her face as she realized they'd gotten Brenna's hopes up for no reason. "No, that's not quite right. We weren't there to adopt just Brenna. We were going to see about adopting you, or at least taking you in as a foster home, depending on what you wanted."

He rubbed his hand over his face, sighing. "We asked the director not to tell you that we were thinking about adopting you, but I swear to you we had no idea you would think we were trying to take her away from you. If we had, we'd have told you ourselves before we ever stepped foot in there."

Zoe's foster mother came up behind her, wiping her hands on a dish towel and frowning. "What's going on here?"

Zoe covered her eyes with on hand, speechless for a moment, and shook her head as Thomas looked at her foster mother. "A bit of a miscommunication, I think, regarding one of her friends."

"Is that right?" the woman asked, looking at Zoe suspiciously.

"Maybe," Zoe said, finally, sighing. "I don't know for sure yet, and my head hurts."

Thomas gave her and engaging smile. "Let us buy you breakfast at IHOP, or Denny's, or wherever you want, and we can talk about it."

Zoe stared at him for a moment, then shrugged and looked at her foster mother. "I think I'll catch breakfast out, Mary. I'll be back later to clean up my pig-sty, don't worry. You want me to bring anything back on my way home?"

Mary looked uncertain. "No ... that is ... I mean, if you're sure..."

Zoe wavered between pissed off and amused as hell as she realized the woman thought Thomas was her lover. "These are Trina's parents," she said. "I mentioned her to you, remember?"

"Oh! Oh, yes, I remember now."

Zoe wasn't sure if that was any better. Mary didn't think she was sleeping with Thomas anymore, but it was clear she now thought Zoe was Trina's girlfriend. Or something. She rubbed her temples, wincing.

"I'll be back later, okay?" she said, unable to quite keep the exasperation out of her voice.

"Well ... okay, then," Mary said.

Zoe slipped out the door, shaking her head and muttering under her breath. "I've lived here for nine months. I've never even mentioned sex, and never gone out in any more revealing clothes than your average nun. So why the hell does she assume I'm fucking anyone I talk to?"

Thomas laughed. "Because you're a teenage girl?"

Zoe glared at him. "Not all teenage girls are sluts, and not all assumptions are that innocently stupid. She wouldn't think that if I looked like Trina, even if I wore halter tops and miniskirts and carried a twelve-pack of condoms in my purse."

He sobered, nodding. "You're probably right, even if I hate to admit it. And I didn't mean to imply that all teenage girls are sluts. I was trying to imply that she thinks all teenage girls are sluts."

Zoe sighed. "Well, she's really good at living in her own little reality, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

"Listen ... we really are sorry about yesterday," Thomas said as they turned the corner of the house. Zoe could see Angie sitting in the driver's seat in the car. "We never meant for you to think we were trying to take her away from you." He pulled the car door open for her.

"I've already talked to Trina about this," Zoe said, getting in.

Angie laughed. "We know. She was thoroughly pissed at us yesterday. I think we managed to convince her we weren't trying to hurt you, but now we need to convince you."

Zoe buckled the seat belt and leaned back, closing her eyes. "I never thought you were, or at least that that was the point of it."

"Do you understand we never meant to separate you?" Angie asked. "We were looking for a way for you to be together sooner, and have her safe sooner."

"Don't you get it?" Zoe asked. "If she lives with you, she'll never be happy with what I could give her. The cruelest thing I could do would be to take her away from that."

"Trina told us what she offered you," Thomas said, and she stiffened.

"Do you really think I'd take it?" she demanded.

"No," her said, sighing. "But if you did, you could keep Brenna in the lifestyle she'd be accustomed to."

"And at the same time show her that I'm a liar, that anyone can be bought, if the price is high enough, and that there are things more important than making it on your own," Zoe said. "No thanks."

Angie smiled at her in the rear-view mirror. "I'm glad you didn't, then. But what we're offering ... Zoe, you'd be a part of the family, living with her. We didn't say you'd have to leave. If you need more independence, you could move into the servants' quarters and use them like a private apartment."

"Why?" Zoe asked. "Why would you do this for me?"

Angie and Thomas exchanged a long look. "You don't know?" Angie finally asked.

"A real reason, not just that you feel some sense of obligation," Zoe said.

"There's a good reason," Angie said. "I ... Are you sure you don't know?"

Zoe closed her eyes for a moment. "Look, I'm too tired to play games, and I hurt, " she said, slowly and clearly. "Can't you just speak plainly this once?"

Angie hesitated for a moment before shaking her head. "No. I'm afraid I can't. But I can tell you this: we're offering this freely, with no strings attached. There's no cost for it, and neither I, my husband, or our daughter will ever ask you for any form of payment whatsoever. The time may come— probably will come, in fact— when you learn something that makes you think that this was done so that you would feel obligated. You are not. You will have no obligations towards us beyond the obligations that one human being owes another and, if you choose to be a part of our family, a family member has to their family. Nothing more."

Zoe leaned her head back against the seat. "Then I can't either. I have to know why something's being offered, or I can't know if it's safe."

Angie glanced at her husband. "I ... can explain it, perhaps, in general terms, but I can't give you any great detail. You have the potential to help others, more than you realize. By helping you realize that potential, we're helping ourselves. You could consider it a form of enlightened self-interest, if you wanted."

"I'm sorry," Zoe said. "That's just not good enough. I can believe you'd want to help Brenna just out of the goodness of your heart; she's special, and you're smart enough to see that and to want to preserve it. But I can't accept that sort of ... of philosophical sweetness and light as adequate reason for the other. I don't buy it."

"You don't think you're special?" Angie asked, raising an eyebrow.

Zoe laughed bitterly. "Not in a way that inspires compassion."

"Then you're wrong," Thomas said. "Trina's told us a little— very little, really— about your life. She's remarkably closed-mouthed about it, but she's told us enough that we're impressed. I have a suspicion that if we knew the rest we'd be even more impressed, but that has to be your story to tell, and we won't push you."

"I don't need help like Brenna does," Zoe said.

Angie looked at her in the mirror. "You're smarter than that, and I know it, so let's drop the pretense, okay? Will you survive without help? There's no doubt in my mind that you will, not after meeting you. Will you have a fulfilling life? Quite possibly, although it's not guaranteed. Can you hit the peak of what you're capable of? Not impossible, but not very likely, either. You know and I know that you can do better if you have more resources behind you."

"Probably," Zoe said. "But I can't take those resources without knowing the motivation behind them. And since you won't tell me, the question is moot."

"Partly because you're special," Thomas said. "Partly because you're good for Trina. Partly because Brenna needs you. Isn't that enough?"

Zoe hesitated for a long moment. "Maybe. But she won't need me anymore, not if she's being taken care of."

He snorted. "That little girl will always need you. Haven't you seen the way her eyes light up when she talks about you?"

Zoe swallowed hard, looking out the window. "Yeah, well ... maybe it'd be better if she forgot the things I remind her of, you know? She's little enough that she can."

"Forget things like the sister who was willing to risk her life to save her?" Angie asked, softly. "Who lifted a burning beam off of her leg with her bare hands? Do you really want her to forget that things like that exist? That there are people who'll make that kind of sacrifice for her?" Her eyes caught Zoe's in the mirror. "Most people are speaking figuratively when they say they'd walk through fire for someone. You did it."

"She shouldn't have been there to get hurt," Zoe said. "She shouldn't have had to live through everything that led up to it. If she can forget to the point where it's all a bad dream..."

"It's our experiences that make us what we are," Angie said. "If she forgets that, then she's forgetting who she is. Is it really worth it? And if you ask her, I'll bet you that she doesn't want to forget you. I know she doesn't want you to leave." She hesitated for a moment. "And ... she's always going to have some impairment in her leg, barring a miracle. And that means she'll never be able to forget."

"If you could just tell me why, give me a reason that's ... logical. Solid," Zoe said, hating the almost pleading tone that crept into her voice despite her efforts to control it.

Angie was silent for a few seconds, and Thomas looked at her, as if waiting for her answer. Finally, she said, "I really do think you're good for Trina. I like you. I don't particularly like most of her friends, and I actively dislike a few."

"Well, I can't argue with that," Zoe said. She didn't really understand why Trina had some of the friends she did. "But I can't see how it would help any. It might even make her want to see them more, for the contrast."

"I don't think so," Thomas said, shaking his head.

"Look," Zoe said, "Right now, I'm something new to her, so she's ... giving me more attention than perhaps she normally would. But once she figures me out to her satisfaction, she'll go back to normal. Increased exposure will only hasten the process."

Angie shook her head in reply. "No, I don't think so. She's never hung around with those friends because she seemed to want to. It was more like she didn't realize that she had any other options. You show her she has more options than she knew."

Zoe snorted. "She has any options she wants, and she damned well knows it. Trust me."

"Then maybe you show her that there's a point to exercising those options," Angie said. "I'm not sure."

Zoe sighed. "What do you want me to say?" she asked. "That it seems perfectly reasonable to decide to support one of your daughter's friends just because she's not a bimbo? It doesn't."

"Is it enough to trust us for a while?" Angie asked. "I think-- I'm almost certain, in fact-- that you'll understand fairly soon. I can't tell you. But you can discover it for yourself."

Zoe sighed again. "I don't want to get her hopes up," she said, knowing it was weak.

"Whose?"

"Either of them, actually, but I meant Brenna," Zoe said.

"It's going to take some time to get everything done," Angie said, thoughtfully. "We could try to push it through faster, but that might let her mother have a chance if she ever gets out. So ... can you agree to try it, and we don't make any promises?"

"No promises?" Zoe asked. "And no strings? If I do find your motives, and I don't agree, I'll go; I won't feel sorry about not paying a price I didn't agree to."

"One promise, on our part: There's no price. There's a reason, but not a price," Angie said. "But if you want to go, you can go."

"There's always a price," Zoe said. "Whether it's one I'm willing to pay, I can't know until I know what the price is."

Angie pursed her lips. "I ... think I can say this much," she said, slowly. "I suspect very strongly that you'll be faced with a choice at some point in the not-too-distant future. If you insist on looking at this as if there's a price, then the price would be treating that choice with all the seriousness it deserves, and making sure you've considered all aspects before you choose. The 'price', if there is one, most specifically does not involve choosing one way or the other, and neither outcome would result in the withdrawal of our offer."

Zoe sighed tiredly, closing her eyes. "I want to be with Bren," she said. "I promised her I wouldn't leave her. And I want what's best for her, even if that's something I can't give her. If I can put up with a drunken asshole for that, I can put up with your inability to speak plain English."

Angie laughed. "I'm being as clear as I can," she said. "You'll understand eventually, and you'll understand why I couldn't say more."

"Mmm," Zoe said. "Doubt it. Think you like being enigmatic. It's your gig."

Thomas smirked at his wife. "She's got a point there, love."

"Hush, you," Angie said, smacking him on the leg.

"So ... what do I have to do?" Zoe asked. "And if you start the paperwork, is there anything, you know, lawyer assisted you can do to keep that woman away from Brenna? I mean it ... if she's left alone in a room with Brenna, she'll kill her. No matter how sane they think she is, how sweet she looks, or what she says, it's all a lie."

"We're applying all the pressure we can," Angie said. "We've made it very clear that if that happens, we'll make sure everyone involved is charged as an accessory to murder. That's all we can do for now. Once we're a little further along, we can apply more pressure."

Zoe was quiet for a bit. Finally, she nodded sharply as she came to a decision. "Could you get me a good lawyer? One who could take the insanity angle and really make the abuse she watched and helped with work for him? I'm not sixteen yet ... no chance they'd try me as an adult. But I've only got a couple of months to work with."

Angie pulled over to the side of the road and turned to face Zoe. "You're sure she needs to die?" she asked seriously, no trace of amusement in her expression.

"What did Trina tell you about ... them?" Zoe asked in reply.

"She told us they were abusive, and that Brenna's father set the fire that she was injured in. I know there has to be more to it than that, just from the look on her face, but she wouldn't say anything more."

"They didn't beat her, as far as I know, and he didn't rape her. But when I got there, she was four years old and weighed maybe twenty-five pounds. They didn't feed her. They didn't talk to her. She wrapped herself up in rags she found, or t-shirts she took from their closet. She'd never had a pair of shoes, or a toy, or a hug. I don't know how she even knew her name, because they didn't ever say a word to her. It took me a bottle of conditioner and four hours to comb out her hair the first time. She didn't even whimper, either, and it had to hurt like hell ... but anytime she actually got their attention, they'd lock her in the closet, and sometimes it would be days before they opened it and she could get out and scrounge some food."