Saving Grace

Chapter Eleven: Mission Impossible

"Wow, you two look like shit," Sybil commented a few days later when Clara forced them both to get some volunteering done at the Visionary Center. Mostly she wanted Gracie to finish her service hours on time, but she wouldn't dare let Charlie stay by himself with the way he'd been acting. Ever since the night Trent had shown up he'd been behaving strangely. Of course, she'd acted as if she hadn't known that he was kidnapped right from under her nose; nor would he willingly tell her about it.

"Why thank you, Billy, that's what every girl longs to hear," Gracie responded sarcastically dropping heavily onto one of the rolling chairs beside her friend. Sybil swung her gaze over to look at the girl, while Charlie ignored them both and headed straight for the bathroom.

"Is he okay?" she asked when she heard the bathroom door slam shut.

Gracie had wanted to be able to say that he was fine; he'd never been better. But she couldn't lie to Sybil, and there was really no point in even trying to. "He's run into some trouble lately, the kid just doesn't know it yet," she answered, eyeing the doorway Charlie had disappeared through dubiously.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Telling her was far too tempting for Gracie's liking. She didn't want to trust the woman, but she had no choice in the matter. Sybil was one of those people that imprinted themselves into your life without your say-so. Once she was in, it was impossible to let her leave. It was like having the obnoxious big sister she'd always wanted.

"He fell into the wrong crowd," she answered as honestly as she could. "Our dad just died too, I think that probably has something to do with his moodiness lately."

"The fact that you two have been acting so blasé about it has been worrying me," Sybil admitted honestly. "I was wondering when one of you would crack eventually. I should've known Charlie would be the first."

Gracie shook her head, failing at suppressing the smile that pulled at her chapped lips. "Preston moved away too. I think that could be a contributing factor as well," she murmured, just loud enough for Sybil to hear. She had the feeling that people were far too eager to eavesdrop on others' conversations in the building, you'd think they had nothing better to do than to try and poke their noses around other people's business. It drove Gracie absolutely up the wall.

"That reminds me," Sybil started, "I heard a little rumor – wait hold that thought." She turned around, accidentally slamming the wheel of her chair into the desk, knocking it forward loudly as she reached for the phone that was practically ringing off the hook. When she finally answered it, she spoke politely into the receiver, directing the call to the right person, before slamming the phone back down and turning her full and complete attention to the girl she would've gladly called her honorary little sister. "So... what's this I hear about you living with Ms. Hurricane?" she asked, just a bit too loudly.

"Shhhh," Gracie hissed, glancing around to see if anybody had heard, but everybody else was either too busy with a client or far too involved in their three hundred and fortieth game of tic-tac-toe, or the newest National Geographic issue, trying to be as discreet as possible. "I don't really know how she did it, but she "pulled some strings" to keep us out of foster care, and she's been collecting money from the government and giving it straight to us to take care of ourselves. It's a pretty sweet set-up so far, but I don't know how long it's going to last. As soon as I turn eighteen I'm gonna try and get full-custody of my little brother."

"Not to be a nay-sayer or anything, but what if they find out you're not really living with Clara and they come and take Charlie away? Or what if they won't grant you custody because of your arrest records? Have you thought of any plan B's or C's?" Sybil spoke up, a frown creasing her forehead as she stared at her friend with a concerned expression.