TIMOFEY
I pace in the hallway for a few seconds before I realize the little girl is trembling at the idea of being left alone with me. With nowhere else to go, I push open Grant's door and step inside.
"Get out of here!" He jumps up, on the defensive even though I can tell he's terrified.
"Sit the fuck down," I order.
He does, dropping into his chair with wide eyes.
I blow out a long breath as I lean against the wall. "Relax. I'm not going to hurt you."
He squints at me, trying to decide if I'm telling him the truth. I can only imagine how many adults have lied to him in his short life. I won't be joining that list.
"Do you work with the Department of Child Services?" he asks. "Or are you an off-duty police officer, or—"
"I'm not with the police. I'm not with anyone," I tell him.
"You're with her, though. Ms. Quinn."
I shrug. "I guess I am. For today. I drove her here."
"She usually comes alone," he says softly.
"How many times has she been here?"
