Sage: The Outsiders Series, #2

SARA SCHOEN

Dedication

To those who would do anything to save and protect those you love, I hope you never have to go further than you’re able or comfortable with.

To those who give up everything for those around you, thank you from everyone you’ve helped who never had the courage to say it and admit how much you helped them.

Chapter 1

At last, they—the professionals who are supposed to make sure I’m mentally sound before release—have told me I can finally leave this godforsaken hellhole. They wanted me to think it was out of the kindness of their hearts that they released me a month early. One month early...They can kiss my ass on my way out. After what they put me through and they think one month makes up for that? None of them were there when my parents left me and my sisters. They tried to tell me what I did was wrong...but I did it to survive. Is that so wrong? I don’t think so. What I did know is none of them really understand what I did because they’ve never been in the situation.

Instead, they get to pretend to be all high and mighty because they lived decent lives. Sure, there were struggles occasionally, but they didn’t have to scavenge for food. They didn’t need to fight to survive every damn day. None of them had to do what I did to keep their family alive, and even though they didn’t want to admit it, I knew they would have done it too if needed. They were lucky though. They had their parents around, and the ones who didn’t, well, usually they weren’t providing for two sisters in grade school while trying to make it through high school as well. I gave up on that dream pretty fast...There just wasn’t any way to make it work. Between classes, sports, two jobs, and friends...my sisters would have fallen through the cracks. I had refused to let that happen to them. They were better than that. They deserved better than being abandoned. But didn’t get it.

We survived because of what I did. It wasn’t perfect. In fact, it was far from what I imagined my life being like, but we lasted almost a year. We could have made it to my eighteenth birthday if it wasn’t for that little outsider. I lit a mental match and burned the thought away. I wasn’t going to let anything ruin my release day because despite what I told people in here, I wouldn’t change what I did. Well, maybe one thing. I wouldn’t get caught if I could do it again. I know I couldn’t go back, but if I could, that’s the only thing I’d change. Everything else had been difficult to damn near impossible, but we made it work, we made those days matter and every resource count. 

I just hadn’t thought about Rose and Violet telling their friends our parents had been gone for too long. Whenever we were asked about them, we lied because we didn’t know where they were. We couldn’t find or call them. We were on our own and ill-prepared because we waited for them to come back. I knew after a few days they weren’t coming back. Did I know why? No, but I didn’t have time to worry about it. I needed to take care of my sisters, and that’s just what I did. We fell into the background of our neighborhood, we waited, and we almost made it. If I could have just made it to eighteen...The thought haunted me every damn day while I was locked away from them.

I could have saved them from being placed in the foster care system. I should have saved them. I had heard terrible things about the broken system, and even worse, I wasn’t allowed to keep in touch with them while they were in it. Something about how it would cause them to act out, and they might not get adopted. Because of that, I didn’t know what happened to them while I was locked in. It killed me a little bit every day while I worried about them.

The judge had promised to find them for me when the time came, but I couldn’t trust him. He thought he did me a favor, but look what he did to me. I had been locked up for three years all because of outsiders like him. The ones who didn’t know what it was like, the ones who would say I should have gone to the police right away, they don’t know shit. You can’t trust any of them, not even one.

That’s how we got caught, I thought angrily, the thoughts taking over. Some outsider friend of Rose’s told her mom then she called police. When they surrounded our ransacked home, everything we could have sold was gone, but the perfect appearance maintained on the outside, I knew it was over. Rose cried and clung to Violet as the police came to arrest me. They looked around our house, horrified at what they found.

The house wasn’t dirty, but it wasn’t perfect. We had nothing, but the essentials and each other. We could have made it to my birthday. If only we could have made it...I often wondered what our life would have been like if we lasted just a little bit longer. Would we have moved? What would we be doing now? What did we do once I adopted them? Were we really as safe as I thought we would be? None of that mattered though. We didn’t make it far enough to find out those answers.

The police filed a report for our missing parents, took into account all the actions I had done, which Rose had told her little outsider friend, and they forwarded it to the Probation Department and Assessment Center after arresting me for theft. From there, not only was my life in their hands, but so were my sister’s lives.

Since they couldn’t get in touch with Mom or Dad, we became a ward of the state. I think they took pity on me. I hate pity, even to this day. It wasn’t them caring for me, it was them thinking I wasn’t capable to take care of my sisters. We did just fine. We could have made it to my eighteenth birthday. Not that they’d give us the chance. We were fine, healthy, and making it by, but most importantly, we were together.

But, the police and probation board didn’t see it that way. They saw a seventeen-year-old girl stealing, forging signatures, but also fighting to survive with my sisters whose parents abandoned them. So I tried to use it against them. I had to. I needed to stay with them; they needed me. So I let their pity do the work, but I didn’t get a lenient ruling as I hoped.

The assessment center decided to handle my case informally with a judge to decide my fate rather than a trial. This should have given me an easy out, but instead it prolonged the process. There had been a lot of back and forth on what to do with me. I heard community service being thrown around and got my hopes up, only to have them crushed when I ended up in the detention center anyway.

You did break the law, Sage. We can’t let that slide. Officer Ramirez’s voice drifted through my mind often. He had taken care of me throughout the process. He had even been the officer who arrested me. 

He said I reminded him of his daughter, and he wouldn’t know what to do if she had been in the position I had. I begged him to never put her in it, and he said he’d try his hardest not to. I could see in his eyes he meant it too. He’s the only outsider I believe. Maybe it was because he visited me while I was stuck in this detention center. He was the only visitor I had, and thus, the only person keeping me from going insane in the white-walled building.

The judge will take it easy on you, but you won’t get away with what you did. It’s best that you tell the truth. It will make this easier for everyone involved.

And I believed him. Maybe if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have been shocked by the verdict.

Without Mom and Dad, Judge Warner had to send me to Juvie. They said otherwise I could have gone home. I didn’t have a serious crime, like manslaughter, and I didn’t have a criminal history, but if either of them were at home then I wouldn’t have had to steal and lie on bills and tax forms in the first place. Apparently, forgery was a big issue in this case, but the abandonment wasn’t. Great to see where the priorities lie for the courts...

I didn’t see the problem with my actions, but maybe that’s why Judge Warner did it, but I had to stay for three years. Three fucking years. He seriously thought he was doing me a favor, and in a way, I guess he had. He didn’t send me to prison and said my record could be destroyed after I completed my sentence. I didn’t have to tell future employers about my probation status, and I could go back to college if I wanted. According to him, after I served my time, I could go back to having a normal life. 

Fat chance. Though, at least I wouldn’t have to go back to high school as a twenty-year-old. He may have done me a favor for when I got out, but to keep me from my sisters for three years didn’t sit well with me. I’d be released on my twentieth birthday and on parole possibly until I was twenty-one and the jurisdiction ran out on my case. So much for thinking it was eighteen and I was free...

But now, after three years, I’m getting out. Three years, twenty-one days, and God knows how many hours in this correctional facility, and I’m finally getting out.

As I stepped out into the cool October air, I took my first breath of freedom, and relished every second of it. The cold air tickled my nose and dried out my throat, but I didn’t mind. I was free, and the first thing I was going to do was find my sisters.

They’ll be thrilled to see me again. It’s been so long, I thought. I tried not to let it bother me; I just couldn’t prevent the inner demons from speaking. A lot can happen in three years, they could have changed, but I didn’t think they’d change too much. They’ll be eager to see me. They’ll be waiting for me if the judge kept his promise. If not, I’d have to track them down. The thought annoyed me for some reason. Would I really need to track them down? Wouldn’t they know I got out? Couldn’t they come find me?

I shook those thoughts from my mind. The negative thoughts about them weren’t warranted. They may have been kids when our parents left us, but they understood we did what we had to. They’d welcome me back, and it would be like we were never apart. We could pick up right where we left off, right after I finished parole and now it would be better because we didn’t have to keep a secret.

They’ve been waiting for me to get out. Now, we’ll be together again, I said out loud, more trying to convince myself than anyone else

.

Chapter 2

That blissful taste of freedom lasted a grand total of two minutes before my parole officer, Fryda George, met me to break the bad news. I could tell from her walk that she came with a heavy burden. She gave everything away without having to say a word. Maybe that’s why the judge assigned her to me...I could read her. It would fix the trust issues I had with the last one because she could hide everything and, honestly, I hated it. It made me feel like she was out to get me. She never told me appearance days, lied, and I think she wanted to keep me in here. She had made it clear what she thought about me from day one. 

She considered everything I did for my sisters to be stupid. She couldn’t even come up with a better vocabulary word. She seemed stuck in her high school days, which made me a little jealous for what I missed out on. Pretty sure she did that on purpose. In between banishing me to the depths of hell for stealing, not going to the police or my neighbors, and not once trying to figure out what happened to our parents, she thought I deserved a longer punishment, and I honestly believed she worked her ass off to make it happen. She was assigned to help me, get to know me before release, and she wanted to make sure I never got out. 

Sorry. I had two younger sisters to take care of. The shits who abandoned us weren’t high on my list at the time, I brushed off that thought as I gave a curt wave to Fryda. I may not like Fryda, but if it took punching Brooke in the face for them to finally decide to let me get a new one then I’m happy.

Well, Sage, how does it feel? You’re out after three years. She raised her arms and held them out as if she was about to hug me. Thankfully, instead, she jumped up and down in a fit in excitement then backed off slightly. God, she’s draining just to be around. Sometimes she had the self-confidence of a socially awkward, shy girl in high school, and other times she had the energy of a new puppy. You could get whiplash from her.

I waved my hand dismissively and sighed. I shouldn’t have been in there in the first place.

Fryda nodded, her enthusiasm faded instantly, but she gave me a gentle smile. While she never directly stated it, I think she understood what I went through. She never chastised me for stealing or going through it alone. In fact, she seemed to appreciate my efforts. I never got to know her personally, apparently, that was against the rules. She could become my friend, but I wasn’t supposed to be hers. If we got too close then that could mean she cut me slack or something like that when she wasn’t supposed to. A conflict of interest as she once said.

Well, it’s over now. You only have to check in with me and follow the rules the judge laid out for you. Come to think of it, I couldn’t remember what the judge ordered. Once I was told I was free to go, I kind of zoned out. I immediately made plans to find Red and Violet, and then from there it was all a bit blurry. I imagined a tearful reunion, us moving away together once my probation ended, and restarting somewhere new. I knew they’d need time to adjust, but it shouldn’t take long. We’d be back to our old selves in no time.

What are you going to do first? She smiled brightly, but it seemed forced. Whatever her bad news was, she didn’t want to tell me.

I’m going to find my sisters and start over. That’s always been the plan, Fryda. You knew that, so what’s up? What aren’t you telling me?

I didn’t have time to beat around the bush. If she had something to say then she needed to come out with it already. Might as well get it over with as soon as possible.

She cleared her throat before she motioned me to walk with her to her car. We walked in an awkward silence. My mind buzzed with possibilities until she eventually coughed it up when I was trapped in the car.

The judge added something to your parole...I haven’t had the opportunity to tell you about it until now.

What is it? My voice tightened, became low and almost threatening as if I was daring her to tell me bad news. 

You have to go to a halfway house as part of your parole.

What? I screamed, hitting my hand against the door and making Fryda flinch. I guess she heard why she became my new PO. You tend  to get a bad reputation when you knock a tooth out of your PO’s skull. Brooke should have known better than to test me.

She raised her hands in surrender before adding in her meek voice, That’s not the worst part...

Her eyes shifted uncomfortably as if she was prepared for me to lose my cool, but didn’t know how to protect herself. Now she knew what it felt like to be in Juvie. You’re a caged animal waiting for the worst.

I shifted in the leather seat and put my hands under my legs so she knew I couldn’t throw a punch. Okay, what’s the worse part?

It’s going to be at least six months depending on behavior. If you have more outbursts like you just did then time will extend. You won’t be able to leave until we’re sure you’re ready and able to control your anger.

The emotions in her eyes shifted from controlling and the slight twinkle of fear to concern. Fryda did know me better than I knew her. I almost always spent our meetings talking about my past and what I wanted to do once I was out. All those plans just took a six-month leap back. 

Okay, I can behave, I muttered, mostly to myself and silently hoping I wasn’t making a promise I couldn’t keep. To be honest, I couldn’t be sure I would behave. I had been angry since the day I was arrested, and it built every day while I was trapped in that shithole. Sure, no one else would see it like that. I got to finish school while I was there, learned skills to help me get a job, and even learned some people skills, but it didn’t matter. I couldn’t shake the anger, which held onto me like a vice. It seemed to bide its time and then unleash and the most inopportune moments. Especially moments that extended my stay in Juvie.

Six months in a halfway house. I can still go see my sisters, right?

Yes, you can, Fryda replied, her voice lifting slightly. There are few other rules you have to follow, but I’ll start you off one at a time so we can make a plan and get you out as soon as possible. I just ask that you remember I’m the messenger in most cases. Her eyebrows rose and she gave me a serious look. "Please don’t kill the messenger. If you get a new PO this late in the game, well, to