Free Tomorrow's Lies (Promises #1) by S.R. Grey

of sight, and the people in town pretend we don’t exist. Bu the way, don’t think that doesn’t include our social workers. You’ll see.”
    I’m quick to retort, “Saundra said she’d stop in and check on me from time to time.”
    “Did she check on you at your last home?”
    I swallow the lump that forms in my throat. “No.”
    “Then don’t count on things being any different now that you’re here, especially with Crafty Lo calling the shots.”
    I know she’s right, and it makes me ill.
    “So, what are we supposed to do?” I ask. “Just count the days till we turn eighteen?”
    “Yeah, pretty much.”
    I glance over at Callie, resting peacefully. She’s as much of a prisoner as we are. And she’s only eight.
    “What about the twins?” I ask. “After we’re gone are Callie and Cody going to end up being stuck here for ten more years?” I shudder. “What kind of life would that be for them? Working all the time, never being allowed to play?”
    “It’s already like that,” Mandy reminds me. “And it is a terrible life for them.” Her voice cracks and she looks away, swiping at her eyes discreetly. She loves those kids, no doubt about it.
    “We should do something once we’re out,” I whisper.
    “What would we do, Jaynie? Report the fabulous Crafty Lo? No one will ever believe us. Everyone around here loves that lady. There were kids here before us, you know. They turned eighteen, left, and never looked back. Sometimes it’s easier just to not make waves.”
    It sounds harsh, but I have to ask, “Is that what you plan to do? Leave at the end of July and never look back?”
    “No fucking way.” She shakes her head. “I have a place to go, and I’m going to work my ass off to change the things I can.”
    She doesn’t appear to be joking, but I have to ask, “How can you change anything? You just said it was impossible.”
    Mandy bites her bottom lip and stares over at the sole window in the room. It’s raining like crazy and sheets of water are beating against the glass.
    I’m waiting to hear Mandy’s grand plan, but she doesn’t say a thing.
    “What?” I say, puffing up the pillows behind me to sit up straighter. “Are you afraid I’ll blab your plan to someone? I’d never say a word to anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
    Mandy sighs, her eyes remaining on the window as a flash of lightning brightens the room to a silvery-blue. “Yeah, I guess not,” she says, at last.
    She’s still quiet, so I try to prod her along. “So, where are you planning to go when you leave?”
    “As soon as I get out of here, I’m heading straight to Morgantown.”
    “Why Morgantown?”
    “Before I was sent here, that’s where I was living.”
    “That’s in a different county, though.”
    “Yeah,” Mandy replies as her gaze finally returns to me. “I wasn’t in foster care at the time. I had run away from the home I’d been placed in. It sucked, and I wanted out. I’d always heard you could make money in Morgantown, enough to get by on your own.”
    “You got a job in Morgantown?” I ask.
    Mandy laughs. “No, Jaynie, not money from a real job. I’m talking about panhandling for cash. I was too young to work, and I was a runaway from the system. Begging for money was my only real option.”
    I nod knowingly. It’s never come to that for me, but it could.
    “Anyway,” Mandy says, “the students up there were surprisingly generous. It seemed the ones I ran into had a lot of empathy for my situation.” She shrugs. “Or I don’t know, maybe they were just glad they weren’t in my shoes.”
    “How old were you at the time?” I ask softly.
    “Fifteen,” she says.
    “Oh, wow. I can’t even imagine.”
    “It wasn’t that bad, not really. I wasn’t above begging. And panhandling was definitely better than the alternative.”
    “What was the alternative?” I ask, even though I suspect I already know the answer.
    “Prostitution,” Mandy says, confirming