road once before?”
The naked pain in Sorrel’s face shook Jeanie to the core.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Torrez,” Sorrel managed to say. “I didn’t mean to undermine the facility. I . . .” Sorrel paused, peering at the desk as if hunting for an apology written there. “I think the things I’m learning here are important. I’m really sorry.”
“Thank you. I appreciate your concern. This little matter will be noted in your file.”
“Yeah.” Sorrel said, almost inaudibly. “Can I go now?”
“Perhaps you—”
“Yes,” said Jeanie shortly. “Here are the keys, Sorrel. Go get in the car.”
“She will not—”
“Sorrel is late for class, which began ten minutes ago at a place several miles from here. Move it, Sorrel, the class is waiting on you.” Sorrel escaped with the keys.
Estelle Torrez remarked, “She is to be supervised constantly. The police indicated as much yesterday, during that unsavory little ordeal. It quite threw our schedule to the winds. Letting her out with your keys is unwise.”
“Sorrel was under my authority as of ten minutes ago. Humiliating young people is unproductive. Moreover,” Jeanie added with malice aforethought and careful emphasis, “it’s unprofessional.” There! She’d thrown the gauntlet, with the ultimate insult of Jeanie’s world. Brynna’s pithy obscenities weren’t even in the same league.
Estelle Torrez read the challenge instantly. “Mrs. McCoy, I don’t require lectures on professionalism from a woman reduced to teaching juvenile offenders.”
“Reduced? Oh Estelle, how utterly petty.” Now that Sorrel had escaped the woman’s clutches, Jeanie’s anger drained away. “It’s impossible to be ‘reduced’ to teaching.” Prodded by an unnamable instinct, she added, “You must be a lonely woman. I’m sorry.”
Estelle rose. “How dare you?”
Jeanie met her eyes with pity. “I’ll be going now. If you ever need to talk, Estelle, just call me. Jeanie McCoy. I’m in the book.”
She stood there for a moment. Estelle Torrez said nothing.
Jeanie left, closing the door gently.
~*~
Quinto drew a man’s face, all angles and ill temper. Sorrel recovered her dignity with the help of a hand mirror. Dillon listened to his headphones, his eyes at half-mast. Brynna studied a lipstick ad in a fashion magazine. Tonio wrestled with a math problem. Rosalie wandered around the room. Jeanie perched on a table, talking quietly with Mackie Sandoval.
They were waiting, all of them.
“I’m afraid there’s not, Jeanie.” Mackie looked at Sorrel, who examined her fingernails with complete absorption. “She had a different placement, the same place Rosalie’s at now, Esperanza, wonderful people. But she loused it up good and bounced herself back to Corrections. Esperanza agreed to take her again after six months, if they had an opening, but they rarely do. The voluntaries all go there, like Rosalie, so there’s not much room for the detainees. Torrez’s place is rarely booked up, so she takes the overflow. I have to say she does stick to procedure mostly.”
“She enjoys the power. Her little tantrum was sadistic.”
Mackie nodded. “Yep, she’s on a power trip. But it’s rough finding people to do that kind of work. The supervisors have to live there, you know, at least part of the time. Randy told Sorrel to wait for Esperanza, but she couldn’t stand it, never getting to see her kid. It’s the last step, before parole. She said she’d tough it out with Torrez. She figures it’s worth it.”
Jeanie looked at Sorrel with new respect.
“There’s a good side to all this, Jeanie. We do have successes, like Natalie and Maria. The girls respect survivors like that, who’ve been through the gutters and come out with a real life.”
“Especially Rosalie.”
“Yeah, that bit with the baby really got her. Did you know the foster Mom’s trying to have Rosalie’s rights suspended?”
“Can she do that?”
“Not easily. She’s
The naked pain in Sorrel’s face shook Jeanie to the core.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Torrez,” Sorrel managed to say. “I didn’t mean to undermine the facility. I . . .” Sorrel paused, peering at the desk as if hunting for an apology written there. “I think the things I’m learning here are important. I’m really sorry.”
“Thank you. I appreciate your concern. This little matter will be noted in your file.”
“Yeah.” Sorrel said, almost inaudibly. “Can I go now?”
“Perhaps you—”
“Yes,” said Jeanie shortly. “Here are the keys, Sorrel. Go get in the car.”
“She will not—”
“Sorrel is late for class, which began ten minutes ago at a place several miles from here. Move it, Sorrel, the class is waiting on you.” Sorrel escaped with the keys.
Estelle Torrez remarked, “She is to be supervised constantly. The police indicated as much yesterday, during that unsavory little ordeal. It quite threw our schedule to the winds. Letting her out with your keys is unwise.”
“Sorrel was under my authority as of ten minutes ago. Humiliating young people is unproductive. Moreover,” Jeanie added with malice aforethought and careful emphasis, “it’s unprofessional.” There! She’d thrown the gauntlet, with the ultimate insult of Jeanie’s world. Brynna’s pithy obscenities weren’t even in the same league.
Estelle Torrez read the challenge instantly. “Mrs. McCoy, I don’t require lectures on professionalism from a woman reduced to teaching juvenile offenders.”
“Reduced? Oh Estelle, how utterly petty.” Now that Sorrel had escaped the woman’s clutches, Jeanie’s anger drained away. “It’s impossible to be ‘reduced’ to teaching.” Prodded by an unnamable instinct, she added, “You must be a lonely woman. I’m sorry.”
Estelle rose. “How dare you?”
Jeanie met her eyes with pity. “I’ll be going now. If you ever need to talk, Estelle, just call me. Jeanie McCoy. I’m in the book.”
She stood there for a moment. Estelle Torrez said nothing.
Jeanie left, closing the door gently.
~*~
Quinto drew a man’s face, all angles and ill temper. Sorrel recovered her dignity with the help of a hand mirror. Dillon listened to his headphones, his eyes at half-mast. Brynna studied a lipstick ad in a fashion magazine. Tonio wrestled with a math problem. Rosalie wandered around the room. Jeanie perched on a table, talking quietly with Mackie Sandoval.
They were waiting, all of them.
“I’m afraid there’s not, Jeanie.” Mackie looked at Sorrel, who examined her fingernails with complete absorption. “She had a different placement, the same place Rosalie’s at now, Esperanza, wonderful people. But she loused it up good and bounced herself back to Corrections. Esperanza agreed to take her again after six months, if they had an opening, but they rarely do. The voluntaries all go there, like Rosalie, so there’s not much room for the detainees. Torrez’s place is rarely booked up, so she takes the overflow. I have to say she does stick to procedure mostly.”
“She enjoys the power. Her little tantrum was sadistic.”
Mackie nodded. “Yep, she’s on a power trip. But it’s rough finding people to do that kind of work. The supervisors have to live there, you know, at least part of the time. Randy told Sorrel to wait for Esperanza, but she couldn’t stand it, never getting to see her kid. It’s the last step, before parole. She said she’d tough it out with Torrez. She figures it’s worth it.”
Jeanie looked at Sorrel with new respect.
“There’s a good side to all this, Jeanie. We do have successes, like Natalie and Maria. The girls respect survivors like that, who’ve been through the gutters and come out with a real life.”
“Especially Rosalie.”
“Yeah, that bit with the baby really got her. Did you know the foster Mom’s trying to have Rosalie’s rights suspended?”
“Can she do that?”
“Not easily. She’s
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