“How’s Mr. Personality?”

“His name is Preston.”

“I’ll call that candy ass whatever I want.  The guy can’t even remember my name.  Remember the last time? He called me Clarence...fucking Clarence, Betsy.  Do I look like a Clarence to you?”

“He’s...just busy...”

“Seriously?  Are you my sister?”

I sigh.  He’s disliked Preston from the very beginning, and I know it’s something that will never change, but I put up with it, because I love him.  “He’s in Chicago on business for a while.  He left Monday, so I’ve been working a little extra, and next week some of my girlfriends are planning to catch up with me.”

“You’re better off.  Maybe he’ll fall, hit his head... get amnesia and forget about you.  That’ll give you a chance to pawn that ring, find a decent guy, and allow your beloved twin brother to willingly participate in your wedding.”  

“Have I told you that I hate you, Carter?”

“Once or twice,” he winks.  “So let’s see it.”

I slurp my Icee and narrow my eyes at him.  “Wow I’m like...shocked.  The whole ride here I thought you were going to try and toss it in the garbage or something.”

“Why?” He snickers as I stick out my hand for him.  “I just wanted to make sure Mom and Dad weren’t playing another practical joke on me after they told me the news, and, damn...I guess they weren’t.  Look at that thing.”

“Would you stop gawking, please.”

“How many carats is that thing? Better not get in the hot tub on the honeymoon, you might sink straight to the bottom.”

“I don’t know how many it is, and I don’t care.”  I sit on my hands.  

“A guy that buys a ring like that is trying to prove something, if you ask me.”

“I wasn’t asking.  Can we talk about something else?”

“I only have an hour lunch,” my brother smiles.  “I need to catch up on my gossip.  Marilyn said I’d be condemned to the sofa if I didn’t come home with something good for her.”

“She needs a hobby.”

“The kids are enough of a hobby for now,” he laughs.  “It’s a great time to be a soccer mom, so I’m told.”

Carter, my twin brother, the typical all American husband and family man.  He married his girlfriend right out of high school, at our parents great displeasure.  They wanted him to go to college first, like me.  He’s always been the stubborn one though, set in his ways, and was determined to show our family that he could get married and get through school too.  When he got his degree in business, my parents seemed to back off.  A year later Carter and Marilyn had a baby boy, bought a house, and he was able to get a good job as a supervisor at a bank.  It’s been almost ten years since then.  He’s the branch manager at his bank now, and Marilyn hasn’t had to work since he was given the promotion.  She stays home with the kids instead, carts them to their activities and makes sure to call me every week so I can fill her in on what’s going on in my world.  She seems to find my job fascinating, even though it’s anything but, and the fact that I’ve been dating a powerful millionaire for the past two years has kept her attention like an afternoon soap opera.

“I might be late for Ashley’s party tomorrow,” I tell him.  “I’ve been meaning to tell you, but I’ve been so busy I didn’t get the chance.”

He nods slightly.  “You working on a case?”

I let out a long breath.  “Working isn’t the word for it.”

“Visitation?”

“Yeah.”

“Nobody can cover for you?”

“Well...I want to be there.”

“You’re not supposed to let this stuff get to you.  I thought they trained you that way.”

I shrug.  “I can’t help it sometimes.”

“Your hearts always been too big for DCF,” he laughs.  “I told you, you should have taken that job at the school instead.”

“That didn’t pay nearly as much as this does, and I make a difference at this job.”

“Yeah but I can tell you’re tired, Betsy.” He leans forward and plops his half eaten pizza crust down on his plate.  “You’re caught up in another one aren’t you?”

“I dunno.  This one is just different, that’s all.”

He leans back, eyes me seriously for several moments.  “Heroin?”

“The father, yeah, but he’s clean now.  He has ten year old daughter that I’ve been working with for like a year.  He really loves her...but...he just can’t seem to get on his feet.  I’m trying to do what I can to help, but right now I’m not sure what’s going on with him.”

“You gotta stop this Betsy.  You can’t save the world.”

I look down at my lap.  He’s right, and I know why, but I hate it.  I hate that this case has hit home with me so damn much, reminded me exactly why I wanted to work for DCF in the first place.

“You know, I went up to see him a couple of weeks ago so I could give him the kids school pictures,” Carter says quietly.  “He asked about you.  I told him you were probably going to get married, and he said he might be able to talk to the board about attending the ceremony.  I said I’d have to talk to you first.”

“Are you serious? Hell will freeze over before I’d have him there.”  

“Betsy...”

“He’s not a part of our lives, Carter!  I mean, damn, I don’t understand why you go up there.  It’s a waste of time.”

“I have my reasons.”  He nods gently.  “I’ve come to terms with his issues, and he’s a part of my life now.  Some people can’t change, and to be honest, he’s better off spending the rest of his life in there.  They force him to stay clean.”

“People can change on their own if they want to.  He just didn’t care enough about us to make the effort, and he’s only in that place because the only alternative was prison.”

“You should go visit him.  He’s actually pretty easy to talk to these days.”

“Why are you defending him!”

“Are we going to do this now?”

I look down at my lap and shake my head, upset at myself for snapping at him.  “I’m sorry.”

“Maybe you should pass this case off to somebody else, Betsy.  It’s probably for the best.”

“I can’t now.  I’m in it too deep and anybody else would mess things up for Ava.  She doesn’t deserve that after everything she’s been through.”

He sighs again, checks his watch, and slowly gets up from the chair.  “Just promise me that you’ll ask for help if you start to lose your mind over it, okay?  I don’t want to see you fall apart like when we were kids.”

I get up too.  “It’s not like that.”

He just smirks, but doesn’t push me anymore.  “C’mon.”

I let him put his arm around me, and I lean into him as he guides me over to the car.  Sure, we’re twins, but Carter has always been the dominant one, the one who made sure I was taken care of, no matter what life threw at us.  I don’t talk about it with a lot of people, even Preston only knows the very basic details of what my life was like before my brother and I turned eleven.  I get out my anger regarding all of that through my work, but when I get cases like this...cases where I can see myself in the child I’m taking care of, I tend to become emotionally enveloped in the outcome and I’ll stop at nothing to make sure that child is placed into a loving home.

The bad thing? It takes my focus off all the other cases on my workload.  Carter knows, and he’s afraid I’ll end up losing my job because of it, but I can’t just...stop caring about Ava at this point.  There’s too much at stake.

Carter lets me into the car, and as we drive off towards his job again, I can’t help but allow my mind to drift back to yesterday night, when I ran into Justin at the soup kitchen.  It shocked me more than anything else, because I didn’t think his sponsor would let him go hungry like that without a powerful reason.  I’m positive he’s not living at Trace’s anymore, but without a confession from him, or some kind of solid proof, I’m stuck.  The only option I have is to confront Trace, but something is just...stopping me.

And I don’t get it.

He looked sick, tired, as if he’d been exposed to the elements for a few days.  There’s no doubt in my mind that Justin is in some kind of predicament, but he ran off on me before I could tear into him anymore.  I tried to follow him, but it was dark, and I have to admit...that soup kitchen isn’t in the best area of town.  Of course I’m always safe, and security escorts me to my car when my shift is over...but I’d hate to venture out into those streets alone.

“How about you come to dinner?” Carter says as he parks in front of the bank.  “Stay the night with us so I don’t have to tell mom and dad that I’m worried about you.”

It means he’s more than concerned about me, and it gets me to smile at him.  I know we have parents but...in a way, Carter has always been a father figure to me.  “I’ll be okay, Carter.”

“I know you.”

I kiss his cheek.  “I promise, if I start to lose it, I’ll call you.  I have a lot of paperwork to catch up on tonight.”

“Wonder why?”

He rolls his eyes, but laughs when I playfully punch him in the arm.  

“Go back to work, would you?  I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon at some point.”

He does it, finally, only after I promise that I’ll start to take it easy when it comes to work.  Deep down, I know it’s a lie, but I guess I’ll do anything to make my brother feel reassured.  I get into the drivers seat, beep and wave at Carter, before finally pulling out of the parking lot.  I have to return something at Staples, so I head in that direction and speed dial my fiance on the way.

“Hey this is Preston, you know what to do.”

Beep

“Hey baby...” I sigh.  “It’s me, just trying to check in with you...didn’t hear from you yesterday.  Call me when you can.  Love you.”

I toss the phone down on the passenger seat in frustration.  When I said goodbye to him at the airport on Monday, he promised to call me every day, and for the first two days he kept his promise.  Then on Wednesday he could only talk for five minutes, and yesterday I couldn’t get a hold of him at all.  Today is more of the same, and while I know he’s probably been busy getting settled in, it baffles me that he hasn’t been able to set aside twenty minutes before bed to give me a call.  I’ve been trying to tell myself to hold out for the weekend...that he’ll have more time then.

But I just can’t shake the bad vibes I’m getting from Preston’s absence.

I do the best I can to put it out of my head as I park and walk into the store.  I pull out my list, and leave my return at the exchange counter before grabbing a cart and venturing out into the store.  Shopping is a great stress reliever, even if I’m just buying office supplies.  

“Well you were late last week too, you know?”

The voice comes from behind me, as I’m stopped in the middle of the aisle filled with pens and pencils.  I smirk a little, because the man doesn’t sound angry, just sympathetic.

“Sorry Trace...you know, it’s just that sometimes I miss the bus and...”

“Joey just don’t do it again,” he laughs.  “Cool?”

“Sure thing.  Thanks.”

The teenage kid walks briskly past me, pushing a cart of merchandise in front of him, and I automatically turn around to find who I thought I would.  Trace is standing in front of a section of pens, scanning product with some kind of gun, seemingly entranced in his work.  Unfortunately for him, he’s about to be interrupted yet again, because I want answers, and cornering him here I’m sure is easier than cornering him at home.  “Hey.”

He scans one more piece of product before plastering a fake retail smile on his face and looking at me.  “Need hel--”  

I smirk as his smile vanishes, and his face turns pale.  I already know that I’m far from his favorite person, and the fact that he seems terrified of me is telling me something is going on.  “Can we talk for a second?”

“Well I’m...kind of in the middle,” he says.  

I narrow my eyes at him.

“What do you want?” He grumbles.  “I shouldn’t be talking to you.”

“Is Justin still staying with you?”

He looks at me like I’ve gone crazy.  “He didn’t tell you he was staying with his mom?”

I cross my arms.  “No, when did that happen?”

He stares at me for a while, probably debating whether or not he should tell me the truth.

“It would be really bad for you to lie to me,” I tell him.  “Just so you know.”

“He moved out a little over two weeks ago,” he says, glumly.  “The baby is coming so...we decided it was for the best.”

I knew it.  I just knew I was right.

“Two weeks?  That’s impossible.  I picked him up in front of your place last Saturday.”

Trace’s eyes go wide, and then he turns and starts to walk away from me very quickly.

“Wait a second!” I yell.  “Trace!”  I manage to catch him before he turns the corner, and pull him back by the shoulder.  He whirls around, pushes me off slightly, looking like he has no idea what to do.  

“Look, I don’t know what he’s doing,” he blurts out.  “Just leave it alone, all right?”

“I can’t leave it alone.  You know that.  I ran into him at the soup kitchen last night, and he ran away from me like he broke the law.  Why would he do that?”

He looks even more confused now.  “The soup kitchen?”

I nod.

He runs his hands through his hair.  “Fuck...I don’t know...I just...I just assumed he was okay.”

“You haven’t spoken to him?”

He just shakes his head and looks at the ground as if he’s the worst friend on the planet.  “My wife and I...the baby is coming and...it’s just a lot.  I’ve been busy between work and getting everything ready at home.”

“So do you think he’s staying at his mothers?”

“Not if he was where you say he was.  She...damn it...she probably told him he couldn’t stay there.  I knew that would happen, but he never would have told me that considering I practically threw him out of my house.”

“So...then where is he staying?”

He doesn’t say a word for a long time.  Then he says: “I don’t know, but we have to find him.”

I know that look on his face, because it’s one I used to see on my brothers face every time dad went missing for a couple of days.  Sure, we’d find him, passed out somewhere, high as a kite, and I’m sure that’s Trace’s worst fear...that Justin has turned back to drugs to get him through this difficult time.  “I wouldn’t even know where to start looking.”

He nods.  “I’ll help you.”  

And just like that, without a second thought, Trace walks to the front of the store, calls one of his managers to hand the shift over to her, and casually leads me outside and over to his car.  

“I’ll drive,” he tells me, as he unlocks it for us.  “I know...I know the streets pretty well.”

I don’t have to ask him why.

We drive for a long time, scanning the entire area surrounding that soup kitchen.  Eventually Trace gets frustrated, and decides to park the car so we can search on foot.  I can sense the panic in him, the desperation and how guilty he feels about all of this.  Of course it’s not his fault that Justin lied to him about what was going on, but the truth is...Trace is probably one of the only people that truly cares about Justin, and he’d never forgive himself if something happened to him.

“Start looking in the alleys,” he calls to me, as we cross into another intersection.  We’re about fifteen or twenty blocks away from the soup kitchen, and I’m losing hope that we’re going to find anything.  “You have to go all the way back...it’s warmer there.”

I don’t think, I just do as he says.  I enter alley after alley, never turning up anything more than a bunch of garbage and rotten smells.  I’m about to give up, tell Trace that we need to report this, and get Justin into even more trouble, but then...

“Collins!”

I race towards the sound of Trace’s voice.  He’s across the street, in the back of another alley, and when I finally reach him, I find that he’s crouched down in front of something...

Or someone.

Oh god.

“Is it...”r32;

“Shit,” he chokes out harshly.  “Justin...Justin can you hear me?”

Trace is feeling for a pulse when I draw close enough to see what’s really going on, and I feel my blood run cold when I lay my eyes on Justin.  He’s pretty beat up, the dried blood is caked all over his face and clothing, and the bruises on his face are telling me that more than one person did this to him.  I immediately dial 911 and identify myself as Justin’s case worker, and they tell us to standby and not to move Justin for any reason.  Then all we can do is wait, and in the meantime, I crouch down next to Trace, and try my best not to cry as he continues to attempt to get his friend to come around.

I know Justin hasn’t made a lot of good choices in his life but...but he didn’t deserve this.  He was trying, making as much of an effort as he could for Ava.

It’s more than my father did for us.

I hear the sirens in the distance after awhile, and without thinking, I reach out and stroke Justin’s face.  I feel Trace’s eyes on me as I do it, but I just don’t care.  “You’re okay,” I whisper to him.  

Then his eyes crack open, just a little bit.

“B--Betsy...”

I smile a little, realizing it’s the first time he’s ever called me by my first name.  “Shh.”  I squeeze his hand.  “Help is coming.”

He squeezes it back, and then he passes out again.