“I’ll meet you there.”
NEARLY TWO HOURS LATER, Raoul sat in the emergency waiting room. Peter had been seen almost at once. X-rays showed a clean break that should heal quickly. He was off getting a cast on, while Mrs. Miller waited to talk to the social worker who had been called. So far Peter’s foster parents hadn’t shown up.
“Mr. Moreno?”
He looked up and a saw a tall, blonde nurse with a chart. “Yes,” he said as he rose.
“Hi. I’m Heidi. Peter’s going to be just fine. They’re finishing up now. I wondered if I could talk to you for a minute.”
“Sure.”
He followed her into an empty examination room.
“How do you know Peter?” she asked.
“Through the school. He goes to the one that burned down, so all the kids are up at my camp. I’ve played ball with him and his friends a few times. Why?”
She pressed her lips together. “He’s very thin for his age. We have some concerns about the food he’s getting. His bones aren’t as dense as we would like. From what Mrs. Miller told us about the playground, he shouldn’t have broken a bone in that fall. Do you know if he gets enough to eat?”
He shook his head, ignoring the rage that bubbled inside of him. He had no patience for people who didn’t take care of the kids entrusted to them. He’d been through plenty of that himself as he’d been growing up.
“Are you going to do any tests?” he asked.
“We need to talk to his parents about that.”
“Foster parents,” he corrected. “He lost his parents a while ago.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” Heidi said. “Now I know why Mrs. Miller wanted us to call social services. I’ll talk to the caseworker when she gets here and ask her to follow up.”
Raoul looked at her. “Are there any signs of physical abuse?”
“We didn’t see any. Do you suspect that something’s going on?”
“I was there during the fire. Peter was one of the last kids to leave. When I went to help him out of the room, he pulled away. It could have just been one of those things, but…”
“Maybe.” Heidi didn’t sound convinced. “I’ll mention that, as well. It doesn’t hurt to be cautious.” She made some notes. “Thanks for the information.”
He and Heidi walked out of the room. He saw Mrs. Miller hurrying toward him.
“Can you come to Peter’s room,” the teacher asked as she approached. “He’s not doing well.”
“What’s wrong?” Heidi asked. “He was fine a few minutes ago.”
“The cast is on and they’ve given him something for the pain,” the older woman said. “It’s not his arm.” She lowered her voice. “Apparently the last time he was in the hospital was after that horrible car accident that killed his parents. He keeps talking about them and asking for you.” She looked at Raoul. “I think seeing you would make him feel better.”
“Sure.”
“You go ahead,” Heidi told them. “I’m going to check on the caseworker and see when we can expect her.”
As Peter was due to be released in an hour or so, he hadn’t been given a room on one of the regular hospital floors. Raoul followed Mrs. Miller through the maze of hallways that made up the E.R. Peter sat up on a bed, looking small and pale. The cast went from his wrist to his elbow and was Dallas Cowboy blue. But the kid looked anything but okay as he covered his face with his free hand and tears ran down his cheeks.
“Hey, buddy,” Raoul said as he walked into the room. “What’s going on?”
“I want to go h-home,” the boy cried.
“We’re getting ahold of your foster parents,” Raoul told him.
“N-not them. I want my mom and dad.”
Raoul swore silently. This was a problem that couldn’t be fixed. He looked at Mrs. Miller, who was obviously fighting tears of her own, then back at the boy.
Raoul moved to the bed and pulled the boy into his arms. Then he carried him to the chair in the corner and sat down, holding Peter close.
The kid clung to him, wrapping his uninjured arm around Raoul’s neck and crying into his shoulder.
He was so damn skinny, Raoul thought. All bones and angles, too light for a kid his age. He held Peter, rubbing his back, not saying anything. After a few minutes, the crying softened and the kid seemed to go to sleep.
“I feel so bad for him,” Mrs. Miller whispered. “I’ve called all the numbers his foster parents left and there’s no answer. Mr. Folio’s employer said the man was out of town for a few days. But if that’s true, who’s looking after Peter?”
Raoul didn’t have any answers. He knew the situation with the boy wasn’t all that unusual. That being underage and alone in the world was never a good thing. There were excellent foster parents out there, but plenty of them were only in it for the money.
An older woman entered. She looked worn and tired, with her gray hair pulled back and glasses hanging from a chain around her neck.