When Cami moves in with the 2 most popular guys in school in a new foster home placement, she realizes that her tragic past just might make it so that she will stay lonely forever.
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Cami has...
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Social services had dumped me at my brand new house the day after I was released from the police station after being declared a run-away by the previous family who hadn't give two shits about me.
Thankfully, the family's children, (two boys, from what the mother had said) were already gone to school.
I didn't have time to shower, only to say hello to my temporary foster mother who was sheltering me until they could find a more permanent solution for me and put on my school uniform and get out the door.
The woman was in her mid-forties and stunningly beautiful. It was her work with the social services division as a family lawyer that gave her access to more...high profile kids like me.
Then again, hardly anyone batted an eye at my file as it slid across the desk anymore. The Astor name was infamous, but Camille Astor was not.
My belongings had all fit into one giant duffle bag (not counting my school back pack) that I'd brought with me to Colton's house. I'd filled it up after he left for school that morning exactly one week ago, pretending to be sick so he'd leave without me, and packed up everything that belonged to me.
I didn't care if I had to sleep on the park bench. I wasn't going to go back to him.
My feet took me to the police station, where I reported him.
It didn't do anything, of course. It never did. But at least I put his name on a statement, even if the cops didn't believe anything I said.
Once I called my case worker and my last name got thrown around, as well as my inheritance money tied up in my trust with the state that would eventually belong to me, however, the police started changing their tune.
I got an exclusive trip to the hospital for a rape kit, and even the nurses smiled at me.
Why couldn't I get this kind of treatment in the homes I was placed in? Oh yeah, because my money would never affect them.
But the trust overseen by lawyers to take care of every medical and legal bill, however? The trust that would pay handsomely once billed? That got people to sit up and take proper notice.
Maybe when I came into my millions, I'd donate a wing to the hospital who treated me so gently. Maybe I'd donate to the officer's campaign for Sheriff if he handled my case correctly.
I was nothing but a walking dollar sign to these people, but if it got me the justice I needed, then I wouldn't care.
Colton was brought in for questioning the next day while I was sat in a cushy conference room in the same building, and I was so dissociated from my own emotions that when someone asked me for a banana, I started laughing hysterically.
They looked at me like I was crazy.
The room smelled like moth balls and molding walls, but when the female detective assigned to my case came in with gourmet coffee and a pitying smile on her face, I knew it was the end.
