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“She ain’t mine,” the woman said. When the girl was close enough, she grabbed the child’s arm and pulled her in front of the chair. “Say how-do.”
“Hello,” the small child whispered. Her voice was shaking. She couldn’t be more than five or six and was obviously terrified.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Justin said.
The woman scowled. “It’s real simple. That whore, Laurie Smith, paid me to take care of her bastard girl here.” The woman poked at the girl. “She’s dead, and the money’s run out. I don’t run no orphanage. I got babes of my own to feed and there ain’t no extra.”
Justin curled his fingers into his palm, just in case his temper got the better of him.
“Madam, I would thank you not to speak like that in front of the child.”
The woman stood up and shrugged. “Say all the fancy talk you want. Like I said, the church lady didn’t want nothin’ to do with the girl. I ain’t gonna keep her. As I sees it, she’s your problem.” The woman moved to the door, opened it and walked away.
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