But she had felt fairly safe in telling her co-workers at both of her jobs the whole truth, not particularly worried that any of them would rat her out to social services. The crew at Old Navy, in fact, had even pooled their resources and presented her with a store gift card so that she could begin to replace some of the clothing she’d lost in the fire. Tessa had a sneaking suspicion that it had been the normally introverted Peter who’d initiated the collection, especially given how solicitous he’d been towards her after learning the news.

And when she’d arrived in earlier this morning at her weekend job, her supervisor had quietly handed her a gift card to the store, compliments of the management who’d heard the news about Tessa’s tragedy. Both had been a godsend, since the selection of used clothing the Red Cross had offered the displaced residents had been of little use to her. She certainly didn’t mind wearing used things, having grown used to thrift store and bargain rack clothing for most of her life. But very few of the things that had been available were in her size, or else they had been far more suited to a woman of sixty than to a girl of sixteen.

But it was Michelle’s news that brightened her spirits far more than the promise of new clothes. If it worked out, if Michelle’s mother was really willing to have her live with them and social services gave their approval, it would be the best possible outcome that Tessa could have hoped for.

“That – that would be incredible, Michelle,” replied Tessa almost tearfully. “I can’t believe your mom would do something like that for someone she’d never even met.”

Michelle rolled her eyes. “Well, let’s just say she might have an ulterior motive. She’d definitely want assurance from the foster care people that she’d get paid for taking you in. Do you have any idea how much they might pay her?”

Tessa shook her head. “Not really, no. But even if they didn’t, I could give her some money for staying there from my salary.”

“No, no.” Michelle shook her head emphatically. “Don’t offer to do that, okay? Just some friendly advice. If it turns out that social services will send her money every month, that will be more than enough. My mom is – a leech. She makes a decent salary working at the DMV but she has no idea how to manage money. She’s always borrowing money from me, never pays it back, spends it on stupid stuff. So never offer to give her any because she’ll try to bleed you dry.”

Michelle’s words of caution instantly gave Tessa cause for concern, making her wonder if she really wanted to live in a house with someone like Mrs. Wallace. But the alternatives she could possibly envision didn’t seem much better, so she kept her fingers crossed that it might all work out.

One Month Later

Tessa cringed as the screaming argument Michelle and her mother had been engaged in for the past fifteen minutes escalated to even louder and more volatile heights. It seemed at times that the two of them – along with Michelle’s fourteen year old sister Kimmie – were constantly yelling, threatening, name calling, or crying. Ever since Tessa had moved in here last month, she’d been silently appalled at how horribly the three women treated each other, and she was more than a little uncomfortable living in such an unpleasant atmosphere. As flighty and unpredictable and moody as Gillian had been over the years, she had never, ever raised her voice to Tessa or insulted her or made her feel unloved.

“If you don’t like the way things are run around here, you little bitch, then you can just pack up your shit and get the fuck out right now!” screamed Debbie, Michelle’s mother. “I’ve had just about enough of your crap, Michelle, and I’m not going to put up with it one more day, do you hear me?”

“God, it would serve you right if I did move out!” yelled Michelle. “I hate it here, and I’m counting the days until I turn eighteen and can get the hell out of this place forever! I’m this close to calling Dad and asking if I can go and live with him for the next few months.”

Debbie laughed, but it was an ugly, sarcastic sound. “Oh, go right ahead! You’re dreaming if you think he’ll take you in. Never does a goddamn thing for the two of you, never even calls. He doesn’t give a shit about you girls, never did. But if you think living with him is better than being here, be my guest, you ungrateful little bitch.”

The argument went on for several more minutes, with their voices getting louder and the insults more shocking. Tessa tried to block out the sounds, desperately needing to study for yet another geometry quiz in the morning, but it was nearly impossible to ignore what was going on just outside the bedroom she shared with Michelle.

Living here for the past month had been a mixed blessing for Tessa. On the one hand, she’d been grateful to have a roof over her head, a place to sleep and shower every day, and not having to worry about being mistreated in an unknown foster home or bullied by other residents in a group home. She liked Michelle a lot, had become much closer to her since they shared a room, and got along reasonably well with Kimmie.

But, on the other hand, the constant arguments between the two girls and their mother created an extremely tense living environment, and Tessa always felt more than a little on edge. Debbie seemed to merely tolerate Tessa living here, and had never tried to make her feel welcome. Tessa knew that it was only because of the monthly stipend Debbie received from social services for her care that she was allowed to live here.

She spent as little time as possible at the house, and rarely if ever ate a meal here. During the first week she’d lived here there had been Chinese takeout on the kitchen counter when she’d arrived home from work, and Michelle had urged her to help herself. Debbie had promptly complained for the next half hour about how expensive food was, how much things cost, how money didn’t grow on trees. Tessa had felt so guilty that she’d been compelled to offer Debbie some money for the small portion she’d consumed, even though Michelle had later cautioned her not to do that again.

“Hey, she’s getting several hundred dollars a month towards your care,” she’d pointed out. “That’s supposed to help feed and clothe you. How much money has she given you so far to put gas in your car or buy clothes?”

Tessa had shrugged. “None. But I didn’t expect that. I’m just grateful she took me in.”

Michelle had snorted scornfully. “Don’t be grateful. Sorry, but to my mother you’re just a business transaction, a way to make a few bucks that she can piss on new shoes or going barhopping with her friends. You’re entitled to eat whatever you want here, so don’t give her money again. She already gets plenty of money to pay for your food.”