Pivotal Moments.

Chapter 8

Hetty was a nice lady, but her security measures, in Callen's opinion, were insane.

There were cameras and a security team that patrolled the grounds. It was more heavily guarded than prison, and none of his family were here.

Callen had not opened the letter he had received from Dallas yet. If it was to say he had messed up, he did not want to read it.

Callen had given his word to this woman that he would try and turn his life around. He woke up early every morning, basking in the small amount of freedom he did have. He would shower, and run around the grounds of the large house before breakfast. After getting used to the fact that he could make his own breakfast, and that he was allowed to eat whatever he wanted that the house had stocked, he had taken to feeding himself most mornings before the strange woman he lived with rose in the morning.

Hetty would insist that they ate together in the evening, and she would arrive home just as the housekeeper had finished cooking the evening meal, and join him in the dining room. She would ask about his day, inquire about his education and then they would eat in a comfortable silence.

Callen, for his part, was wondering what she did for a living. She would leave about eight o'clock in the mornings, and get home for six in the evening. He was never alone; there was Duke, an imposing man who had a British accent. Callen suspected he had been in the armed forces, due to the way the man carried himself and thought maybe he was security too as he never left the house while Callen was there. Sometimes he would nod, or watch Callen as he exercised either running or in the Olympic sized pool Hetty had on her property.

Uniformed Security would never talk to him, although they looked at him like he was going to rob Hetty's house, so every once in a while he would move something, leave a window open or sneak out onto the grounds in the middle of the night to keep them on their toes. If Hetty knew what he was doing, she wasn't saying anything to him and he enjoyed finding out how far he could go.

He had kept his word, he lasted a month. Callen followed Hetty's rules thinking that if he made a mistake, he would be sent back to Fulsome.

He felt like he was still a prisoner. Frustrated, he understood, this was still a prison. A gilded one, but a prison nonetheless.

The one thing Callen had noticed was, that as prisons went, this was the most luxurious, but he felt it was still in a sense, a prison despite the fact that it was obviously the woman's home. He was a prisoner there. On his first week, he had tried leaving the grounds to go to his parole officer, only to be informed that the man was coming to see him.

When Callen told Hetty, he needed to find a job so he could pay his way, he was told he did not need to pay her to stay there. He argued that he needed things, toiletries, clothes... etc.. She told him to write a list and they would be provided. He also argued about going to the local community college, to complete his GHD, only to be told he had a tutor starting the next day.

About a week after Callen had arrived, and had argued with Hetty yet again about being able to go out of the grounds, he had begrudgingly accepted her refusal and had gone to his room. Duke walked over to his friend and sat beside her. "You've had other foster children before Henrietta; you've let them leave the grounds, go to college, why not this one?" He asked her.

Hetty pulled an old album out, and flicked through the pages, stopping at the picture of a smiling young woman, her hair flowing in the breeze.

"It's not safe for him right now." She said quietly. "There are people looking for him."

Duke nodded, "I read his file, Aryan Brotherhood."

Hetty shook her head, "No... this... this is an old enemy, from before he was born." She explained. "While they are in town and looking for him, security here will be this tight. My Intel says these people plan to stay for a month; if he doesn't show up then they will be leaving. Then he can go out of the grounds."