Uncensored (New York Unraveled #5)

3. Ginger

By education, I was a social worker and I had a lot of experience in dealing with kids. When I applied for a position in Maywoods Orphanage, I hadn't expected to get the job. The opening was for someone who had a professional knowledge of psychopathological disorders and I had no clue. But I still applied because Dr. Ajax Myron was one of the most renowned psychiatrists in the country and what I'd been doing up till then didn't seem that fulfilling. I was a child welfare social worker before that and it always felt like I was the helpless one. I'd rescue children from abusive homes and then they got lost in the system, bouncing from foster home to foster home which, more often than not, turned out to be even worse than their original home. I always felt too helpless to make any real change. But working in an orphanage would give me the authority to actually make a difference. So when Ajax called me for an interview, even though I didn't know the P of psychology, I rushed in with my best foot forward and assured him that I would spend the near future trying to cover up where I fell short. Apparently the guy who worked there before me passed away and they needed someone to fill his shoes as soon as possible, which was why Ajax gave me a shot. Still, I was grateful I was even considered.

That was two years ago. I was studying for a bachelor's degree in psychology now so I could help them better. They were my whole world, and I would die before I let someone scar it. When Trystan Royer showed up with all his suddenly changed demeanor and sincerity, I was adamant to not let him anywhere near Aldrich. Despite all his good looks, I'd seen way too many households where drunk men ruined their kids. I wasn't going to let him do that to Aldrich. He talked a good game but his sweet words could not reflect the truth behind closed doors.

I taped the last of the drawings on top of each child's beds. They changed everyday. Whenever they made something new, we hung it up so they could see their creativity and be proud of it. It was an indirect way of making them feel valued and it worked like a charm. There were usually a few insightful aspects in all the drawings, indicating their mood and mental status. Their use of colors, lines, shapes, detailing and the sort of objects used to depict a scenery told a lot about them. There was one that disturbed me more deeply though; the only one I was taking home. Aldrich's drawing was colorful enough but there wasn't anything personalized in it. The house was just two straight line and another two slanting ones to make the roof. There were no windows or doors, no chimney. Nothing. There was a lot of environmental detailing. He drew a big sun with a smiley face, fluffy clouds, a curving road leading from the house, grass on the sides of this road. But that's where it got even more confusing. Three stick figures were drawn beside the house. One of them, the tinier one, was drawn at a distance from the other two, obviously signifying himself. His own stick figure had three curved lines on his forehead to depict his hair, a wobbly smile and two uneven circles for eyes. The other two, however, had blank faces. There was no detailing in them, nothing to indicate any familiarity with the people I was presuming were his parents.

I absentmindedly began walking towards Ajax's office so I could voice my concerns to him, still staring intently at the picture like the answer of why it was so fishy to me would suddenly jump out and smack me in the face. Lost in my thoughts, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going and I bumped right into Trystan as he rounded the landing of the staircase. He shook his head a little as if he himself had been lost in disturbing thoughts of his own and reached out a hand to steady me by my elbow. "I'm sorry," he muttered.

"Uh, no, it's my fault. I apologize," I said politely and started to sidestep. 

Trystan put his hand on my elbow again, this time to stop me. "You said I can see Aldrich if I want to." It sounded like a question and there was a slight pleading in his tone.

"You can. His classes finish at 2 pm and then they play around here for two hours. I'll take him home at 4. You already have my address. You can visit him whenever you want to. Just try not to disturb him during classes," I said gently. Seeing him so broken, I wasn't so pissed at him anymore. He genuinely cared if he would get to see his nephew or not.