Sehven
My alarm for eight am sounded and I left from the mirror inside my bathroom to the iPhone laying on my bed. I needed to be heading out the front door right now but was in the middle of crimping my jet black wig. Isabella and I completed fresh installs on each other last night. By the time I was out of the office, She and Erin were already home. Dinner was being prepared, dirty clothes were being dried, and they were getting ready for the next day.
The last two days, I was taking an extra minute to prepare for Vargas's session. According to his file, he was an ODD child and had been significantly aggressive most of his childhood. However, his file stops abruptly at the age of fourteen. Which is the most important time frame for most children with ODD. It was a milestone and most recordings from their earlier childhood and adolescence would be compared for further research on how to treat them as adults. There was still valuable information included in the file, however.
Information such as him being from Texas, but graduating from a high school in Georgia. He was also placed in foster care at the age of twelve when his maternal grandmother passed. There was no other intel on his parents. Besides the fact, his father never returned any calls from DCF or Child Protective Services during well-being checkups and phone interviews.
I wasn't sure if that was why his file ended randomly, or if it was something more severe. Dr. Chapman had stopped by Monday afternoon just as Stephen stated he would. Only to give me some helpful tips on how to treat Vargas.
While he was there, I took the time to inquire about my mother's options. Just to be hopeful, because I knew there was nothing he could accomplish at this point. Erin and I had grown up together in our maternal grandmother's household. Originally, life was "normal" for me. Two-parent household, with a supportive father figure present. However, by the time I turned eight, my mother had taken me away from the only house I always called home. Instead, we moved to the Southside of Houston and were coupe up in her mother's two-bedroom. Months went by and I came to realize my mother was indeed pregnant. Erin and I didn't share the same father, and as I got older, I realized that was the reason for the separation in my household.
"This your second time rushing this week, girl."
Isabella walked into my bedroom, flopping down on my bed with her phone in hand. I laughed at her tone, shrugging a shoulder. She was right, but I didn't care. I had already started on my hair, I couldn't go with a half-head of crimp curls.
"I just sent Lilly a text. They'll be alright until I get there."
Izzy came to stand behind me, picking up the comb from my counter. She took the crimper from me, allowing me to take a much needed break. In this household, Izzy was like the hairdresser, the mathematician, and the bestest friend for both me and Erin.
Isabella Chance was a year younger than me. We met during our middle school years. She was in the sixth grade, "fresh meat" as the upper-class men would tease the younger kids with. Her mother, Ms. Lisa was one of the school's Guidance Counselors and even with my gifted abilities, I still spent a fair amount of time in her office. Rather it was regarding my mother's situation, which declined significantly by the time I reached middle school, or my father's random neglect. Ms. Lisa always instilled pride and confidence in me. It may be the reason Isabella and I grew so close. When I didn't have a stable mother figure around anymore, I could always count on Ms. Lisa and my grandmother, Patricia. And thankfully, Izzy had been mature enough to allow that.
"Erin said something about going out to dinner tonight. If you're down. I know you have been talking about Wednesday since you got home Monday. If not, we can raincheck for Friday or this weekend."
