Chapter 1  

Whitney 

9 years ago 

“You need clothes?” Ms. Corser asks. Her tone was friendly, and welcoming. Something I’m not used to, especially coming from a foster parent. But she was not like any other foster parent I have met. She seemed bubbly, giddy with excitement, and it made me nervous. I didn’t trust her. I didn’t trust anyone. Rule 1 of being a foster kid, trust no one. Smiles are the easiest thing to hide behind. 

When my social worker told me about the Corser's and my new placement with them, she made sure I knew that they were a well to do family, with a ton of money. No children of their own, as Mrs. Corser’s was infertile. Mr. Corser was a well known ,and beloved lawyer. I remember seeing billboards with his face all over them on my way here. Cedar Falls was littered with them. 

“Whitney,” Mrs. Corser’s called to me snapping me out of my thoughts.  “Did you hear me?” 

I cleared my throat, folding my arms across my chest nervously. “I think I have enough.” It was a lie, but I didn’t want to impose. If I was being truthful, I could count the total number of shirts and pants I own using both hands.  

She gave me a knowing smile as she glanced over at my open suitcase lying on the bed. Her brows knitted together as she looked loss in thought for a moment. I could tell she was processing her approach carefully with me. She probably didn’t want to come off as overbearing, and I wasn’t making it easier on her by refusing her help.  

I swallowed down my fear and forced a smile. “I’m sorry. I’m not used to people being so nice.” 

Mrs. Corser faced me again and placed her hand on my shoulder. “Of course.”  

My muscles tensed at her touch. If she noticed she made no mention of it, instead she continued.  

“Why don’t I have my assistant take you around town a bit? Help you get the lay of the land before school on Monday.  

School. More new people to get used to. 

“Okay.”  

“You’ll be attending Oxford Prep. Millie has already picked up your uniforms. You’ll find them in the closet to your right.” She pointed over my shoulder. 

Great rich prep school. I totally won't feel like an outcast or freak. 

“You’ll absolutely love it at Oxford. Andrew and I met there.”  

Her eyes glistened with what seemed like a flashback to a joyous memory. “Freshman year, to be exact. We met in debate club.”  

I arched my brow. Mrs. Corser didn’t give off debate club vibes.  

Noticing the look on my face, she let out a giggle. “Well, I only joined because I knew Andrew was going to be there. I had a crush on him, but he hadn’t the clue I existed. The man knew he wanted to be lawyer and he had his nose in a book half of the time.”  

“And what did you want to be?” I asked, regretting the moment the words left my mouth. I hope I didn’t sound rude. From the little I researched on her, she played tennis in high school, was on the cheerleading team, and was popular. I couldn’t understand how Mr. Corser didn’t notice her.  

“A wife.” she responded. It was as if she had rehearsed the line a thousand times, and I wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince, me or herself. 

For the first time since arriving, I fully noticed her. Mrs. Corser was without a doubt beautiful. I couldn’t help but take in her perfectly tanned skin, brown eyes, and sandy brown hair that fell just past her bony shoulders. Everything about her screamed wealthy. It wasn’t just that she was wearing –what I could only assume- was an expensive dress, it was also how she carried herself. Her posture was perfect, like a classically trained ballet dancer, with the body to match. She had grace and poise... and I felt ugly.  

“Anyways, why don’t you try on one of the uniforms. We had to guess your size based on what Ms. Butler told us.” She gestured towards the closet. “This way if we need to get any alterations done before Monday, we will have enough time.”  

I nodded and made my way over to the large walk-in closet. It was like nothing I had ever seen before. I could sleep just in here alone. 

The uniforms were neatly hung on the left. Navy blue cardigans, short and long-sleeved white blouses, and several navy plaided skirts.  

I took a deep breath as my nerves started to settle in.  

“There’s a full-length mirror just to your right.” She stated as she made her way over to it. She gave herself a quick one over and smoothed the edges of her blouse.  

“Go ahead, dear. I think we both have all the same parts” She chuckled.  

My eyes widen. Did she really expect me to change in front of her?

An uneasy feeling settled in my stomach as she didn’t move. She only gazed at me through the mirror, and I knew she wasn’t leaving.  

In one quick motion, I lifted my shirt over my head, and let it fall to the floor beside me. It was almost like a game of chicken. Was she expecting me to run? Did she expect me to put up some sort of fight? 

I turned away from her as my fingers found my zipper and I pulled them down as well. Stepping out of them, I reached for a blouse wanting to cover myself as quickly as possible. To my surprise it fit perfectly. Even the skirt fitted well.  

Breathe Whit.  

“Let me see you.” She stretched out her hand for mine as she motioned me over with the other.  

Closing the distance between us, I slid my hand into hers and she smiled.  

“Beautiful. Mr. Corser, and I may have to fight the boys at Oxford off with a stick once they get a look at you.” she giggled and turned me towards the mirror.  

My back rested against her breast, and I froze. Her breath warming the back of my neck, causing me to shift uncomfortably.  

“God, I miss when my tits were this perfect.”  

I stood in silence as she surveyed me. Was she looking for emotion? If so, she wouldn’t find much of it here. Was she testing me?  

Of course, she was testing you. Don’t be an idiot.  

Her eyes fell to my cochlear implant on the right side of my head, and she touched it gently.  

“You must forgive me, I'm a bit ignorant when it comes to the deaf community. Ms. Butler told me you had your implant placed when you were two. You also know ASL as well, is that correct?” 

I turned my gaze to the floor fighting the urge to cover the device with my curls. I hated it when people noticed it, even more so when they made it a point to let me know that they did. “Yes.” I muttered. 

She slid a hand under my chin, forcing my gaze back up to her but pulled away.  

“Why did you want me?” I questioned. My voice shaky but stern.  

“Will you need anything special?” she asked, ignoring my question with her own one. She wanted to deflect to my needs. “Millie can get it for you. 

The tension in the air was stifling. I was going to have a panic attack.  

Don’t panic Whitney. 

Sensing my discomfort, she gathered my hands in hers, softly rubbing her thumbs over them. 

“I want you to be happy here. Is there anything special you will need”  

A familiar feeling settled in my stomach, as every inch of my body begged me to move. Tell her she’s making you uncomfortable. Don’t be weak Whitney! But I had learned a long time ago that what I wanted would never matter to anyone.  

I close my eyes fighting back tears. I thought back to the moment I was told of my new placement, and how I questioned why a rich family would want 16-year-old teen almost ready to age out of the system.  

“Whitney,” she cooed planting a kiss on my cheek. “Open your eyes, and look at me, darling” 

I swallow pushing down the need to cry. Fuck her. 

“You will have a good life here. That other family took from you, used you, and offered you nothing more than a bed.”  

My breath caught in my throat. Memories of physical abuse by my last foster family plagued me. 

 "Andrew and I will take care of you. Love you. In a few years, you will be off to college- which we will pay for of course- with enough money to do whatever you wanted.” 

Bile rose in my throat. “So, they wanted a toy? Something to live out whatever sick fantasy they had.” I could run. But where would I go. I had no money. Nobody I could trust. Ms. Butler practically sold me here.  

“Mrs. Corser?” a soft voice called out from inside the bedroom. The voice startled me, and I instantly stepped away from her loose grasp. 

“In here Millie” she called out to her. 

Millie entered the closet, her phone to ear. The woman looked to be in her 30’s. Her eyes were big with round glasses over them and her black hair was neatly swept into a bun. She was dressed in black slacks, and a red silk blouse.  

My throat went dry as I processed her proposition. They were smart. Take advantage of the girl who’s already been hurt before. She won’t know the difference. She would appreciate what money could offer, and how quickly it helped to dry her tears, and hide the pain.  

***

Millie took me to the largest mall I had ever seen. It was extravagant, filled with expensive outlets of brands I’ve only seen from magazines. We stopped for a few photos that would go on Mrs. Corser’s social media. Fake smiles, fake laughs, fake gestures of understanding. All of it felt scripted. I hated it. I wanted a moment alone. A moment to breathe.

“I need to use the bathroom,” I blurted out just before Millie and I entered the next shop. Mrs. Corser had already left to go back to the house. She wanted to get back home to setup to get things order for Mr. Corser’s arrival back in town from some business trip.

Millie sighed pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “You can’t wait until we get back to the house?”

I could since I didn’t have the urge to pee. I just wanted space. Even if it was to cry inside a bathroom stall for a few moments.

“No.”

She rolled her eyes. Is your cellphone on?” she questioned.

I slipped my hands into the jacket I had borrowed from Ms. Corser and grabbed the phone. It lit up the slightest touch on the screen.

“Yes.”

Millie looked at her watch and then over at me. “Just meet me back at the car, in 20 minutes. I have a quick errand to run anyway.

My shoulders relaxed as I forced a smile before taking off in the opposite direction. I had no idea where I was going. I knew we had passed a bathroom earlier by the food court, and I knew that would be my best bet.

I followed the signs for the food court, stopping once at the directory, when I had lost my way. I couldn’t concentrate. My heart was beating fast and I needed peace. I needed to breathe.

Finding a table off to the side I remove my hearing aid and sink into in the chair letting the silence wash over my body. Silence. It was the only way I knew how to escape when others were around. It was how I kept my panic attacks at bay.

Closing my eyes, I drew in four deep breaths. Relax Whit. Tears threatened to spill from my eyelids, and I swallowed the lump in my throat.

Suddenly, I felt as if someone was watching me. I opened my eyes and immediately saw him. A pair of dark eyes watched me from about 20 feet away, and I instantly held my breath.

He was about my age, maybe older. He sat at a table with six other people, all oblivious to the panic-stricken girl in the corner. All except for him.

I couldn’t read his expression, but it didn’t stop the hair on the back of my neck from standing up.

How long have they been there? I didn’t notice them before.

All but 1 of the boys in the group sported letterman jackets, with the Oxford logo stitched in the upper right-hand corner.  I looked away at him and over to the others. They looked like best friends. I gathered that they were football players since the only one standing had a football tucked between his arms. He leaned in whispering to a dark-haired girl, and she giggled, slapping him playfully on the arm. He grinned and kissed her.

I rolled my eyes, landing them back on the mysterious one still watching me. He apparently didn’t realize it was rude to stare. Even though I didn’t want to look away from him. I hated not being able to read his expression from this distance. I prided myself on reading the silent cues that people never realized they were giving away.

The blonde who I could only assume was his girlfriend turned to him and offering him a sip of her soda, and when he didn’t respond she followed his gaze back to me. Her eyes widened at me, and I swallowed nervously embarrassed by the exchange.

The vibration of my phone pulled me away from them, and I pulled out my phone immediately seeing Millie’s text.

Where are you?

Shit.

Standing up I texted Mille back.

I’m on my way now.

She was going to be pissed at me, but I didn’t care. I avoided him and the table, and made my way out of the food court, unsure of where to go.

If I remembered correctly, I made about two turns before I found the food court, so the journey back couldn’t’ be too far. I clutched my phone tightly in my hand ignoring the vibration of what I could only assume was another “hurry up” text from Millie.

I’m surprised she wasn’t calling. OH SHIT! I couldn’t hear anything. I stopped, my heart racing with the realization that I had left my hearing aid at the table.

Just as I spun around, I crashed into someone.

“I’m sorry,” I said not looking up and fixing my eyes to the ground. I was unwilling to meet their gaze. It was clumsy of me to suddenly stop in the middle of a walking path.

Stepping back, I quickly regained my balance and stepped out of their way. I kept my eyes glued to the ground, and when they didn’t move, I said fuck it, and pushed past them. I got maybe a step in a half away, when I felt someone grab my arm.

“What the heck!” I cried out finally looking up at the person I had run into.

My breath quickened as I realized the boy from the food court was now standing in front of me with a hardened expression. Butterflies filled my stomach, I felt like we were watching each other from across the room again. His scent carried through the space between us, and I hated that I couldn’t pinpoint what it exactly was. It reminded me of cedar and smoke. I liked it.

There was sweat on his brow, and I wonder if had chased me down.

He put his hand up and mouthed the word Wait, his other hand opened carefully holding my fragile device.

He had run all this way to give this back to me. I wanted to cry; he could never know how much this meant to me. I swallowed fighting the tears back. “Thank you.”

He waited a moment watching me fit the device back onto my ear before he spoke. Suddenly I became all too aware of myself and how pathetic I must look to him. First, he watched me have a panic attack, and now, he was watching me anxiously hear again. 

“You left it back at the food court. Looked like something you wouldn’t want to lose.”
Hearing his deep voice made the butterflies in stomach flutter even more.

“Thank you,” I repeated.

He grinned and slid both hands into his jacket. “What’s your name?”

I opened my mouth to speak but my phone rang, and I knew it was Millie. Crap. Crap. Crap. She was probably freaking out now.

“I’m sorry, I have to find someone.” I ignored his question looking around to see if I could spot the directory. I didn’t want to answer the phone, afraid he would be able to hear Millie on the other end. I was embarrassed enough.

 Where the fuck am I?

I could feel the weight of his gaze as he watched me turn about looking for the right way.

“Where are you trying to go?”

I sighed feeling defeated. “Entrance 8”

“I’ll take you.”

“No t-

“I wasn’t really asking.” He grinned, and walked past me, leading the way. I stared at his back in disbelief. He was tall, at least a good foot taller than me.

I looked around quickly wondering where his friends were. Had he left them behind solely to return my hearing aid back to me.

I silenced the call then shot a quick message to Millie.

Got lost. On my way now.

I swallowed moving my feet in quick steps to catch up with him. He didn’t wait for me, and part of me wanted to be annoyed, another part of me found it amusing.

“So, Shirley,” he called from in front of me, am I leading you back to some guy?”

I rolled my eyes, “My name isn’t Shirley.”

“It is until you give me your actual name” He shot back, and I could hear the amusement in his voice.

“Just going home. I’ve never been to this mall before.”

He stopped and turned to face me. “Good.”

Good? Wait what? Good that I was going home or good that I hadn’t been to this mall before.

“Why is that good?,” I questioned, stopping quick enough before slamming into his chest.

He bent down slightly to meet my gaze. “I don’t send pretty girls back into the arms of other guys.”

Heat flooded my cheeks, but then I thought back to the pretty blonde that was in his lap earlier.

“Won’t your girlfriend be jealous that you left her alone to help me?”

He chuckled. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

Oh. She sure looked cozy on his lap. Then again, this all made since. He’s a player. He probably had a string of girls he messed with. Well, if he thought this was going to make one of those girls, he was wrong.

“How old are you?”

“Sixteen”

“Do you go to Oxford?”

I bit my lip, I was unsure sure how to answer that. I hadn’t actually started, and I would be coming in in the middle of the year.

“I start on Monday. I was trying to do some shopping.” I hoped I sounded confident as I caught up with him again.

He stopped giving me a quick glance over and noticing my lack of shopping bags. “Didn’t find anything you liked?”

Right, no bags. I had given everything to Millie earlier.

“I’m more of t-shirt and baggy jeans kind of girl. I’m not really used to this.” I waved my hand about taking in all the fancy dress shops and makeup fronts.

He chuckled. “You’d probably be only one of the few girls that didn’t.”

I bit my lip taking in what he said. This is what he was used to. Girls that dressed like runway models, that knew how to contour their makeup just the right way, so that their noses looked like slim nubs on their faces. I was most definitely an outsider.

“Sounds like you guys have a type.”

“Not all of us.” He looked down at me, and this time another wave of heat flooded my body. “I prefer a t-shirt and baggy jeans kind of girl.”

“Oh really? Is that why you were staring at m-

“You looked lost.” He interrupted.

I cleared my throat and folded my arms over my chest. “I’ve never been to this mall before. But you seem to know it well.”

He stopped then turned and faced me narrowing his eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”

I licked my lips and shifted under his gaze trying to figure out how he could tell there was more. “You looked scared.” He added.

I chill ran up my spine, it was as if he could see right through me. I didn’t owe him an explanation, but something in me wanted to give him one. This stranger couldn’t save me. Even if I thought he could help, there was nothing that he could truly do.

“I’m Whitney Spicer.” I responded after a few more moments of silence hoping he wouldn’t try and pry for more.

“Too late, I’m calling you Shirley now.” He joked.

I laughed. Something I hadn’t done in a long time.

Pleased with himself, he plucked my phone from my hand, and started to type.

“Here” he handed it back and then slipped his hands back into his pockets. “Call me the next time you get lost.”

I looked down at my phone and saw that he had added himself to my contact list.

Gage “What? no last name?” I teased.

He smirked then pointed up to a large photo framed on the wall of a family. A woman was holding her a child that appeared about 2 years old. They were standing in some dirt, wearing hard hats and posing for the photo. Wilcox Mall groundbreaking ceremony was engraved in the frame.

My mouth hung open as I recognized his eyes instantly in the child. Even from here, I could tell he most definitely had his mother’s eyes, though he resembled his father now.

“Don’t forget to call.”

He turned on his heel and walked away.