Putting on Airs

Broken is Broken

Chapter 5: Broken is Broken

"Lumpkin?" Sean asks sadly.

I know now isn't the time, but that ridiculous nickname makes me laugh. My laughter seems to unfreeze the rest of them. We snort and hold our sides while trying to get ahold of ourselves. I feel those darn grey eyes drill a hole in the side of my head, so I turn to meet them. Huffing out an exhausted breath, I nod in resignation before resuming my seat and swallowing heavily.

"As you probably guessed, I was abused at home. My stepmother found a multitude of ways to make me pay for being the product of an affair my father had. When a school counselor came to the house to, I don't know... get a feel for things, maybe?, we ended up moving the very next day," I mumble, not allowing myself to get emotional.

"What about the Randolfs? Why didn't you tell them what was happening?" Gabe asks in an uncharacteristically quiet voice.

"They already knew, but they said they had to be careful. They didn't want me to go into the foster system or deal with the police," I answer.

"Why? Why would they allow you to be at risk like that?" Sean asks, sounding appalled.

"I never knew. All they told me was that I would be taken care of. That I was family, and they'd get me help. The thing is, they didn't have a chance. We were gone before they could save me," is my answer.

"Family?" Silas asks, looking slightly horrified, while I nod knowingly.

"That's not possible, Baby. They wouldn't have let you disappear like that if you were adop...," North tapers off with his intense dark eyes never leaving my face and a look of inquiry chasing across his visage.   

"Our name changed. My original surname, or at least that of my family, was Stanton. It's possible that the Randolfs couldn't find me." I shrug, pretending I wasn't destroyed when I wasn't saved.

"Miss... Sang, please do not take this the wrong way, but our... school does not make that sort of mistake. The Randolfs would not have had such an oversight," Blackbourne states crisply, choosing his words with care, much to my amusement.

"Your... school," I say with hand quotation marks, "is not infallible. Please don't take this the wrong way, but the Academy let me fall through the cracks for reasons only the Randolfs know. I don't know why they stopped looking for me. I would have went with if they had come for me. Where are they, anyway?" I ask, somewhat bitterly.

Every boy in the room seems to rear back at the mention of their precious Academy. I realize the Academy is supposed to be some grand secret, but it's not like they're talking to someone who isn't in-the-know. I feel free to talk about the organization with these guys when I haven't breathed a word about it to anyone else for the past seven years. Blackbourne's throat clearing draws my attention to him.

"I'm sorry to be the one to inform you, but the Randolfs passed away almost six years ago in a vehicular accident. Someone ran a light and clipped their fender, sending them into a tailspin they apparently couldn't recover from," his smooth voice murmurs gently.

"No. That's not even possible. Mr. Randolf was an excellent driver. He was better than everyone else. Mrs. Randolf even mentioned him teaching driving..." I taper off my tirade as grief hits hard and heavy within my heart and stomach.

"You seem unusually distraught for someone that was sounding rather bitter just moments ago, Miss... Sang," Blackbourne murmurs while his eyes laser straight through to my psyche.

"Yes. If you'll excuse me, I'd like to use the restroom?" I ask hoping someone would point me in the right direction.

Almost at once, seven hands point toward a darkened doorway. I barely manage to stumble in, close the door, and open the toilet lid before losing everything I've eaten since getting to Nate's house. Another few minutes pass before I am able to find my legs and stand. Flushing away the sick, I wobble to lean against the sink.