Believe by Glynis Rankin (online e book reading txt) đ
- Author: Glynis Rankin
Book online «Believe by Glynis Rankin (online e book reading txt) đ». Author Glynis Rankin
âThey donât believe you.â He replied in a controlled even tone.
She released a heavy moan, placing her head back down.
âYeah,â she retorted, sad. âI got that.â
âDo you know why?â
Sara didnât answer.
âIt doesnât make sense, what you told them, with what the evidence shows.â Tyrell prompted.
âWhat doesnât?â
âNone of it, can you tell me what really happen?â
âNo!â She yelled, but it sounded muffled to Tyrell.
âWhy not?â Tyrell never met anger with anger; it only further upset the distressed child. No matter what she did, he had to remain calm within her storm.
âYou wonât believe me!â She said in a huff.
âI might.â
Sara raised her head just enough to stare at him. The way she examined the contours of his broad features, it was as if sheâd never seen a black man before, Tyrell assumed.
"You a doctor or something, you donât sound like a social worker?"
âAfter all those years in school, thatâs what they told me when they gave me a diploma." He smiled. Tyrell pulled out his wallet to show her his IDs.
Sara glanced at them and snorted. She stared back at him, but this time with contempt shaking her head. âIt figures they would send a shrink this time.â
Tyrell winced. He hated when people called him that, especially children. He watched her gaze travel down his body to where his hands sat on the table, and added sarcastically. âNice Timex."
He winced again. Tyrell understood the nature of the beast before him. In order to live in the kind of environment Sara had, you survived or you didnât. The fastest way to do that is to size a person up quickly or find yourself in harmâs way.
He knew that jab about his watch was twofold; it struck him personal to knock him down a peg, but also to let him know that she still had bite. Tyrell smiled.
He looked down at the moderately priced watch. "Thanks, it was my father's."
Sara played disinterested he noticed, but said. "Yeah, so what, Jay-Z got a five million dollar watch form Beyoncé."
"Ouch! Well, mine didnât cost that much,â Tyrell offered with a half-smile. He noticed something creeping at the corners of Saraâs lips, but it quickly faded. Had he made a connection, he wondered if he could find more.
Tyrell dropped his smile too, staring at the old watch. âMy Dad⊠he died when I was ten.â He paused a moment to gather his thoughts. âHe left this for me. So I guess you can say it has sentimental value, which means a lot more than money to me.â
Tyrell looked up, heâd felt Sara staring. Her eyes were glued to his but she held a blank expression. He'd shared something personal and hoped she would as well.
âYou got anything like that? I mean, from your family that has sentimental value to you?â he asked.
He noticed the worn rope bracelet on her arm with the oversized bronze charm engraved with the word Believe, she had been mindlessly fondling it.
Sara shrugged, turning her eyes downward. She didnât look up when she said, almost inaudibly. "I donât have family.â
The girl had shut down; she had lost herself somewhere inside while looking at that bracelet.
Damn! Tyrell immediately wished he hadnât said anything. The little progress heâd made slipped out of his hands like sand. He knew he needed to switch gears before he lost Sara for good.
He decided to push her for information about the murders that was her fire.
"Tell me who murdered your foster parents, Sara?â
When her head snapped up Sara frowned with anger.
âNone of them believed me!â She gestured toward the officer with her head; then looked back at the bracelet with a sad smirk. âNone of my foster parents, the army of social workers and government inspectors, Wash. None of them believed what I had to say.â She finally looked up him with hatred laced in her brown eyes. âSo why would you, shrink!â
Tyrell knew he couldnât take anything she said or did personally. He had to reassure the girl that he would trust what she had to say. He looked into her brown gaze unblinking and spoke with candor.
âSara my job is to listen to you, to understand your concerns and believe what you tell me. I wonât judge what you say as a lie just because you're a child.â
Sara sat back against the metal chair. She wiped away the tears that had formed on her cheeks with her small fingers. He could tell by the slight frown across her smooth brow that she's judging whether to trust him or not. He hoped that she would.
âYouâll think Iâm lying if I told you the truth, just like everybody else. People like you always think that Iâm lying because they read my file.â She laughed without humor. âYou know, Nell always said I was a habitual liar. Didnât know what that meant until I looked it up.â She chuckled again, this time with a bit of wit. âI told her she was a habitual whore.â
Despite himself Tyrell laughed, so did Officer Wilburn.
***
He recognized why Sara was callous. There was no reason for her to feel otherwise; perhaps sheâs built a wall around her heart to keep out fear and pain from years of hurt, anger, and disappointment. Sheâs probably been let down so often that she canât see a reason to believe him.
Tyrell understood the subtlety of this dance. Years spent in the system taught a child one thing, not to trust anyone in authority. Itâs often foster parents that communicate this learned behavior. Advocate or not, he had to earn Saraâs trust, or he's wasting everyoneâs time.
âIâll believe you Sara,â Tyrell told her with as much frankness as he could muster. âWhatever you tell me Iâll believe.â
This was only the first hurdle Tyrell would have to cross in his pursuit of the truth. He would have to weave through what Sara thought was true with what the evidence offered. A child's imagination often added to the drama of any event. It was his job to know the facts, while working out the childâs fantasy from the reality and sometimes that didnât mesh. A child could hold on to the fantasy for years. Sadly, heâs seen some never return to reality.
Sara stared at him with those wide brown eyes that were older than her age. A deeper frown crept into them when she cut her eyes over to the young officer. When her gaze returned, she exhaled loudly. âAlright, but you wonât believe me either.â
Tyrell smiled. âI just might surprise you Sara.â
Chapter Twenty OneâReally! What happened to, Iâll believe whatever you say? So that was all bullshit!â Sara shouted with resentment.
âI didnât say that I didnât think it was the truth. I said I think you might be confused because of what happened last night.â
He didnât have to say anything; she knew Tyrell did not believe her. It was in the way his eyes shifted just a bit to the left while she spoke and in the way he sat like a rod was up his backside. What else was new, what did she expect? No one ever believes the foster kid.
âOh, so thatâs why youâre looking at me like I got two heads.â
Sara paced the small room frustrated. She told the truth, the actual version of what occurred. If her, so called, advocate didnât believe her, who would. Guess thatâs what I get for hoping.
She rolled her eyes at the snickering Wilburn, she didnât like him anyway.
âSara, perhaps, if you sit down, we can talk about this.â
Fuck âem, Sara thought. Fuck âem all! She knew what she saw.
Suddenly, Sara felt the physical chill of fright raced down her spine. She shivered at the sensation and stopped pacing. The strong feeling to flee high- jacked her nerves, putting them on edge.
âSara, are you okay?â Tyrellâs voice faded to the background as her eyes darted around the room or the threat.
She needed to get out of here fast before, before what? She went to the door, but Wilburn blocked her path. âStep back kid.â
She frowned at him confused. âI need to get out of here.â
âNo, you have to stay until Wash says you can go.â
After everything thatâs happened, seeing their bloody bodies, hiding under the house, getting questioned by Wash and seating around this room, Sara couldn't think straight. She remembered Tyrell told her she had to stay here, but for how long. Sheâs been here for hours.
âIâm sick of being in here.â She yelled. âI got to go!â
âWhy donât you sit down you look tired.â Tyrell spoke from the backdrop of her confusion.
Sara turned to face him. He held out the chair for her to sit back down, and her eyes suddenly drooped.
She was wiped, that had to be it. Wash hadnât let her sleep just kept asking those same old stupid questions. She was hungry too, even after that vending machine sandwich he gave her when they first arrived.
No wonder youâre on edge! Girl, get a grip, thereâs no need to be afraid. Sheâs in a police station, in a room with an armed officer; nothing's going to happen in here, she reasoned.
Nevertheless the murder of her foster parents had sparked a memory of the Bad Men.
Chapter Twenty TwoFor years, as a child, she had dreams of men coming for her in the night. The doctors told her that it's just her imagination playing tricks on her mind, but Sara knew they werenât dreams. They were memories.
She felt Tyrell place a hand on her shoulder as she stood in front of the mirror. âSara, are you okay?â
She wasnât listening to him, she was inside a memory.
Sara remembered he said his name was Clyde Barton. He was the Forest Ranger who found her that night in the forest. âCan you tell me how long youâve been out here?â
She didnât know, so she shrugged.
âWhere are your parents, sweetie?â
âAre you one of them?â Her tiny voice shook with fear.
âOne of whom?â He was confused.
âThe Bad Men,â she replied through tears.
He picked her up and held her in his arms. âWhat Bad Men, honey?â
âThe oneâs up there, they killed my parents. They killed everyone.â
She pointed to the fire and smoke blooming off the mountain.
When everyone else thought her statement as
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