"We're getting married this fall," Bob said. "Right after you come home."
Anger welled quickly within her. "No way. No way in hell I'm living with you again. Ma, you want him, fine. I'll find someplace else to live."
"Grace, please," her mother said. "Please, just sit down and let's talk, okay?"
"Sit down, Gracie."
The fists became tighter. "Don't you tell me what to do, you son of a bitch," Grace said.
"Please don't fight," her mother said, taking a tissue out of her pocketbook. "I've missed you so much, Grace. Please, come sit down and talk to me."
Grace pulled her hand out of her pocket and reached for the door handle. "Not as long as he's here."
"Where do you think you're going?" he said. "I drove almost three hours to bring your mother here."
"Then wait in the fucking car and I'll talk to my mother," she said.
"Who the hell do you think you are talking to me like that?" Bob said, moving quickly to capture her wrist in a painful grip. "Now you sit your ass down and you visit with your mother."
"Bob, let her go," her mother said. "Grace, please."
Grace tried but could not help crying out in pain as he forced her down to her knees. "Let...go."
"Are you going to listen to your mother?"
Grace nodded quickly. "Yes."
“I thought this place was supposed to make you better," he said, shoving her arm away. "You're still the same smart mouth you were then."
Still kneeling, Grace rubbed her reddened wrist. "Go to hell, you son of a bitch."
Bob moved fast, his hand swinging back to catch Grace in the side of the face before she could react. Stars filled her vision when her head smacked against the painted concrete wall. "I oughta take you over my knee and spank you until you can't sit for a week," he said.
The door opened. "Excuse me, what's going on here?" Instructor Donaldson said from the doorway.
Grace slowly rose to her feet, her head pounding from the impact. "Request permission to return to my barracks, ma'am," she said, holding her sore wrist.
"Grace, please don't go," her mother said.
Her nose throbbing, Grace wiped her lip only to have her fingers come back bloody. Facing her mother, she made no attempt to stop the flow. "This doesn't bother you, does it?" she said, her eyes angry slits. "Why should it? Nothing else he does bothers you." Turning her head, she wiped her face on her short sleeve. "You want to see me next month, don't bring him. I'll never step in your home as long as he's there."
"You see what we have to put up with?" Bob said.
"Grace, come here," Donaldson said, taking a step forward into the room and putting her hand on the teen's elbow. "Mrs. Waters, please wait here."
"What? I drove almost three hours to bring her up here," Bob said.
"Just let us handle this."
"I can have the state police up here in five minutes to arrest you for striking her," Donaldson said, seeming every bit the Viking protector to Grace. "Now wait here."
Carey took a deep breath before nodding for Donaldson to open the door. Her dark eyes took in first the teary woman, then the angry man standing by the window. "Excuse me," she said. "I'm Joanna Carey, head instructor here at Sapling Hill."
"I'm Edna Waters and this is my fiancé Bob Garvey," the woman said. "Is Grace all right?"
Carey clenched her jaw, holding back the biting comment that came to her lips. "She has a bloody nose but it doesn't look like anything's broken. Mrs. Waters, would you come with me please?" The man moved away from the window. "Just Mrs. Waters," she said.
"Sit down, please," Carey said as she entered her office.
"He didn't mean to hurt her," Mrs. Waters said. "Sometimes Grace says things that-"
"A grown man just gave your teenage daughter a bloody nose," Carey interrupted. "It doesn't matter what she said." She sat down at her desk. "And the fact that you are defending your fiancé over your daughter is frankly rather sad."
"You don't understand," Mrs. Waters said. "Bob loves her. He never means to hurt her. They've been scrapping for years."
"How old was she when he first came to live with you?" Carey asked, suspicions forming in her mind.
"She was, let's see...he moved in late May and she was in tenth grade...she was fifteen. Always a difficult age for girls," the woman said.
"Was she a problem before that?"
"No," Mrs. Waters said. "She had her moments, but it was hanging around with her friends and picking up their bad habits that got her into trouble."
Certainly not your lecherous boyfriend. "Can you think of any incident that happened the summer between her sophomore and junior years?"
"No," the older woman said.
"Mrs. Waters, has Grace ever claimed to have been abused by any of your boyfriends?" Carey watched the woman's eyes flicker away.
"Why, no. She's never mentioned anything like that," Mrs. Waters said. "Has she mentioned anything to you?"
"It would explain her sudden change in behavior." Carey said, avoiding the question.
"I told you, it's her friends," Mrs. Waters said. "She thought her father could do no wrong and has always scrapped with any man that tried to take his place, but nothing has ever happened like you're trying to imply, Miss Carey."
Knowing she would never get through to the woman, Carey made a notation in Grace's folder, then closed it. "Mr. Garvey committed an act of assault against your daughter. Both the instructors and medical staff here are required by the state to report any incidents of suspected child abuse. Your standing by and doing nothing is tantamount to neglect, and as head instructor, it's my job to protect these girls. As such, any future visits by you will be done on a supervised basis, and Mr. Garvey will not be allowed on the property."
"You can't do that," Mrs. Waters protested.
"Oh yes, I can," Carey said. "The state, not you, is Grace's custodial guardian and I am in charge of this facility. If you want to visit, those are the rules."
"Can I see her now?"
"She's waiting for the nurse to come up to examine her," Carey said. "She won't be finished before visiting time is through." Carey rose from her chair. "If you'll come with me, I'll take you back to your boyfriend so he can drive you home."
"Marilyn?" Carey said as the sedan pulled out of the parking lot and the door to her office opened.
"Yes." Donaldson said. "They had a few choice words for you."
"I'm sure," Carey said, making sure the car was out of sight before turning away from the window. "I'm going to head back to my cabin and get Grace a clean shirt."
"Taking the cart?"
"No, I think I need to take a good hard run," Carey said. "And we wonder how these kids get so screwed up."
Carey rapped her knuckles against the doorframe. "I brought you a clean shirt."
"Thanks, ma'am," Grace said, taking the cotton shirt. "Are they gone?"
"Yes," Carey said, stepping into the room and sitting in the chair next to the bed. "We're barring him from coming on the property and she can only see you with supervision."
Grace sat up and pulled the bloody shirt off. "I don't want to see her," she said, reaching for the clean shirt. "Can I make it so she can't come here anymore, ma'am?"
"We can talk about it," Carey said, averting her eyes from the half-clothed teen. "Grace, I have to file an incident report on this."
"Covered," the teen said, allowing Carey to stop looking at the wall. "What good is it going to do?" She crossed her arms. "Ma'am," she added belatedly.
"It allows me to have an order issued keeping him away from you," Carey said.
"That's all I want," Grace said. "I want to be as far away from them as possible, ma'am."
"Relax with the ma'am for now," Carey said, running her finger along the edge of the teen's eyebrow. "Nice lump there. That'll smart for a few days."
"Why did she have to bring him?" Grace said, sounding far younger than she was. "Why is she marrying him?"