Read Online Losing Streak (The Lane) by Kristine Wyllys - Free Book Online

had the time. For all my good intentions of going back home, I’d ended up staying at Brandon’s, oversleeping and almost missing this appointment altogether. I’d only just made it in time, fat load of good that it did me.
    Annemarie was watching me closely, a pathetic version of sympathy plastered on her face. I wondered if they’d taught her that in Caseworker School. Hopefully, if they had, they’d also told her it wouldn’t actually fool anyone. Only piss them off.
    Finally feeling calm enough to speak again without the risk of breathing fire, I asked, “What exactly was lost?”
    The uncomfortable shift she made in her seat was too genuine to have been taught. Instantly, I was on guard, my skin prickling with it.
    “Ah, yes. Well, unfortunately—”
    “Stop right there.” I held up my hand and narrowed my eyes. “This is the part where you’re going to really piss me off, isn’t it?”
    “It’s a big county.” As if that was enough. As if what she was going to say next was suddenly okay because the county I had the misfortune of living in was big. “We have very large caseloads and sometimes—well, that is to say, things get shuffled and items get misplaced. It doesn’t happen often, fortunately, but it does occur. And this time an entire file went missing.”
    My hand was still up in a stop gesture and I raised my other to join it. They were shaking. It wasn’t subtle. I knew she could see it.
    “An entire file,” I repeated blandly.
    “Yes.” She didn’t even have the decency to fake a remorseful expression. I was just supposed to understand.
    I tipped my head back to stare at the tiled drop-ceiling, counting to ten under my breath slowly. When the rage increased rather than abated, I kept going. I’d reached fifty when I realized no amount of counting was going to work.
    “How in the fuck do you lose an entire file?” I glared at her. “How is that even possible? That is so fucking impossible it’s like you had to make an effort to do it. You had to work to be that damned incompetent!”
    She winced, a flash of almost human emotion before it was wiped away and replaced again by the smooth-faced robot.
    “I don’t appreciate your tone, Ms. Young.”
    “Yeah? Well, I don’t appreciate this.” I swept an arm out indicating nothing in particular and everything in general. “I did everything you said to do. I jumped through fucking hoops. I even moved my brother and I out into a shitty-ass apartment, took ownership of my mama’s car, everything to make her eligible! And it still wasn’t enough. So I paid the money for her health records, got notes from her doctor and the treatment centers and brought in my fucking lease agreement today, only for you to tell me her file is lost? Ask me if I give a shit whether or not you appreciate my tone. Please.”
    Annemarie winced again, this time a look of sympathy that was almost real twisted her features, and I could feel a hot lump of emotion wedge itself into my throat. I didn’t want her sympathy, real or fake. I wanted her to do her job.
    “Listen, Ms. Young, I understand.” She shook her head quickly when I opened my mouth to protest. “You have a lot on your plate obviously and I feel for that. I do. And what’s happened feels like a major setback. But it’s not the end of the world.”
    “Oh, yeah?” It was hard to squeeze out around that lump but I forced it and packed just enough heat behind it to keep it from sounding shaky. “Because from where I’m sitting it sure as hell looks like a lot more than just a simple setback.”
    “Of course it does. Because you’re sitting in it. But honestly, it’s an easy fix. Fill out the forms again. Bring in copies of your evidence. Tell them at the front I said to hand it all personally to me when you do. Then I’ll set up the soonest available appointment so we can get everything in the system and your mother approved. We might even be able to cut some corners and get her on both