As it turns out, Oscar's dad was in the mid-stages of a psychotic breakdown, brought on by – if you can believe it – finally attempting to get sober.

He was found not long after he abandoned Oscar at the bowling alley, caught by police and then escorted away by a crisis resolution team, to where he can now be officially diagnosed and treated.

Noah, the guy in the suit, was the one who tried to explain all of this to Oscar. He tried to persuade Oscar into the house, where they could talk away from all the "hassle" – a.k.a. us – but, after Oscar's third refusal, he resigned himself to having the "quiet chat" in the most private corner of the garden.

I stood close enough to hear parts of what was said, but far enough away so that Karen wasn't piercing me with a disapproving glare.

Bailey's right, her hair is dumb.

I listened as Noah gave Oscar a run-down of what the words 'psychotic breakdown' mean – the symptoms, the treatments, and the fact that it could've made his dad "do or say some things that he wouldn't normally do or say."

In short, Oscar's dad was sick. He genuinely believed there was a way to reunite his family, by joining his deceased wife so the three of them could be happy again, which is why he got violent with Oscar. He was angry at Oscar for choosing his new family over his old one and – from a psychiatric perspective, at least – none of it could be classed as Oscar's dad's fault.

But Oscar didn't want to hear it. He said he didn't care about his dad anymore, and that he wanted nothing more to do with the man. And, honestly, who can blame him?

His dad's current mental instability doesn't excuse the heap-load of crap he's thrown at Oscar in the past; it doesn't excuse his past words or abusive tendencies. It's only an explanation for what happened at the bowling alley and so, as far as Oscar seemed concerned, none of it mattered.

Noah, who seemed to realise this, soon decided it would be in Oscar's best interest if he just stopped talking – which, if you ask me, is the only good decision he'd made so far.

The other (not so good) decision made by Noah was to order the Crawford's to stay out of the conversation completely – a fact made obvious by the shared looks of frustrated heartbreak, plastered across George and Stella's faces as they watched from afar.

With Noah's attention away from Oscar's dad, the discussion soon moved on. This time, it was about the reliability of the Crawford's as foster parents.

Along came the individual interrogations – sorry, interviews – where the three minors of the household were each ambushed – sorry, invited for a nice chat – with Karen and Noah. The line of questioning was primarily about life living with Stella and George, and whether they could be considered responsible guardians.

Out came the bright smiles – yes, even Bailey's – as the three of them did their best to work some damage control. Then, when the discussions were over, Karen and Noah even took me aside for an interrogation, as well.

Every question thrown at me, I made sure to answer in the Crawford's favour – not forgetting to mention the one time laundry wasn't done on time because hey, no one is that perfect or they'd accuse me of lying.

Then, Stella and George were invited to their own little chat with Noah – one of many to come, I'm sure – and the four of us (yes, me included) were herded into Noah's vomit-coloured car so we couldn't sneak inside to eavesdrop. Karen even stood watch out on the driveway, just to make sure none of us made a break for it.

The car smelled of stale cigarettes, masked only slightly by the cheap pine air freshener that hung from the mirror. I hated it. From the scowls on the boys' faces, and the nasty twist of Bailey's lips, I could tell they all hated it, too.

None of them wanted to be carted off in that car, and I didn't want to watch that happen.

In the end, it was decided that the Crawford's would be put on a probationary trial period of two months. In other, not so obnoxiously social services terms, Karen and Noah intend to pay us a lot more visits. If they sniff so much as one hair out of place, the three kids will be carted off in Noah's crappy-smelling car – goodbye, Stella and George. And goodbye, Jade.

Obviously, none of us are going to let that happen.

For Stella and George, being on probation doesn't really change much. They're not worried – and why would they be? Other than Oscar's dad turning up for a surprise attempted kidnapping (a situation very unlikely to repeat itself, now that he's been caught), there's nothing else wrong, right?

Wrong.

For the rest of us, being on probation changes a little bit more.

No more skipping school for Owen, no more blowing off football practice to hang out with his girlfriend for Oscar (a new revelation that I've only just discovered myself, as Owen proudly announced that he "ain't no snitch"). And, of course, no more talking to the Coleman's for Bailey and me – a concept that Bailey's much more torn up about than I am, I'm sure.

It wasn't ideal but we'd do it, we'd do it to keep us (the six of us) together. That's the deal we made once Karen and Noah were gone, whilst Stella and George were out of earshot: to follow the rules, to stick to the straight and narrow, and to keep our noses clean.

So, when I catch Bailey sneaking out of the house at half past six on Saturday morning – only a day later – I sort of flip my shit, just a little.

"Where the hell are you going?" I demand around a mouthful of foamy toothpaste. I stare through the open bathroom doorway as Bailey creeps out from her room.

She's already dressed in some jeans and a black hoodie, her chunky boots held in one hand to avoid making too much of a clatter down the stairs. Her dark ponytail swishes as she turns her head to look at me, surprised (and ultimately angry) at being caught.

"Where the hell are you going?" she asks defensively, her voice low as she frowns at me.

I walk forward, grab her arm, and drag her into the bathroom with me. I spit the minty sludge into the sink with a little more force than necessary, twisting the tap to wash it away.

"For a run," I say finally, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. Then, I motion to the leggings and tank top I'm wearing – an obvious clue. "Which Stella already knows about, by the way. Where are you going?"

Bailey rolls her heavily made up eyes, her face morphing into a fresh scowl. She shrugs, kicks at the floor with her sock-clad foot, and remains silent.

"What's one day going to do?" she asks eventually, when it becomes clear that I'm not going to let her out of the bathroom without an answer.

Anger sears through my veins, so hot I can almost feel it burn.

"Unbelievable," I hiss, trying to keep my voice low. "Bailey, you are so selfish! You want to know what one day could do? A lot."

Bailey folds her arms, her mouth set into a stubborn line.

"What happens if social decides to pop in for a surprise visit today, huh?" I ask, trying to paint the picture she's too self-absorbed to imagine. "What happens when Stella and George have no idea where you've gone? How's that going to look, Bailey?"

She doesn't answer but she doesn't need to. I know she knows. She's selfish, not stupid.

"I mean, shit," I hiss. "You're willing to throw it all away – everything – and not just for you but for all of us, just so you can hang out with your boyfriend! Do you realise how pathetic that makes you? How selfish, how ungrateful?"

She snorts a laugh and rolls her eyes, as though I've said something amusing. Nothing about what I've just said is funny, not even remotely.

"He's not my boyfriend."

As much as that statement fills me with relief – because it's a question that's been flitting around worriedly in the back of my mind for a while now – that's not really the point I'm trying to make. My point is that hanging out with Alex shouldn't be prioritised over protecting our family.

"I don't care!" I whisper-yell. "I don't care what he is, Bailey. And neither should you. Got it? Just, for once, listen to what I'm saying!"

"Fine," she hisses, her eyes not holding back her hatred. "Whatever. I won't go." She storms out of the room, closing the bathroom door behind her on her way out.

But I wasn't born yesterday.

In less than five minutes, I have my toothbrush rinsed, my trainers on, and I'm following after Bailey along the quiet streets of Greencliff. She doesn't seem to realise that she has a tail and I manage to follow her (undetected) all the way to the park.

The place is quiet this morning, with only the dark-haired woman I occasionally see while on a run, jogging a lap of the perimeter. Other than her, I can't see anyone else. Although I know it's only a matter of time.

Bailey walks in through the iron gates, crossing over the grass with a noticeable bounce to her step. I grumble to myself and lean against a nearby tree, just inside the park gates, as I wait and watch for the inevitable appearance of–

Yep. There he is.

Alex walks over to Bailey, his hood up as he grins the master of all shit-eating grins. They share a high five and laugh, the sound carrying on the crisp, morning breeze.

Little shitbags.

I huff out my frustration and trudge over to the pair of escapees, more than ready to piss all over their parade. Before I reach them, however, I notice someone else approaching from the other side of the park. I pause.

Finn makes a beeline for his younger brother, his hands shoved into the pockets of his grey joggers. He crosses the grass behind Alex and Bailey, moving closer to the oblivious teens with a frown.

Too preoccupied with their premature celebration, neither of them appears to notice that they've been rumbled.

"Not so fast there, Romeo," Finn says, his frown morphing into an easy grin as he throws a casual arm around his brother's shoulders. "You," he flicks Alex in the back of the head, "are breaking strict orders – again."

"Oh, come on, Finn" Bailey groans loudly, kicking at a crumpled beer can on the floor. "Can't you just be cool?"

"I am cool," Finn quips back, his eyes darting to me as I fall to a stop behind Bailey. "About as cool as your sister. Hey, Jade."

Bailey and Alex notice me for the first time, their faces an identical expression of surprise. The surprise soon falls to irritation, the pair of them performing an (almost) synchronised eye roll. Alex nearly has Bailey's scowl mastered – but not quite.

"Now, now, children," Finn says as they both start to complain. The arm around Alex's shoulder looks much closer to a headlock now, as opposed to a brotherly embrace. "Hush up. The adults are talking."

I take that as my cue to speak. Although, how the hell I'm supposed to tell someone I can't be around them anymore because it'll reflect badly on my foster parents, I have no idea. But I have to say something; I can't just say nothing. Saying nothing, and suddenly ignoring them without any explanation, would be rude.

It would be wrong of me – and, for the first time, I'm not saying that because the thought of pissing them off scares me.

No, this realisation has nothing to do with fear, at all.

It's a conflicting, confusing moment for me, as I suddenly realise that I owe them more than an unexplained snub. I owe these guys an explanation because, somewhere along the way, I've started to accept that they're not as bad as I once assumed.

And I have no idea how to process this new revelation.

"Finn, listen – er..."

"I know. You've both got to stay away from us," Finn interrupts, filling in the blanks where I fall short. He gives me a small, slightly saddened smile. "Bailey called Alex last night to fill us in. Alex told Luke. Luke told me."

Oh.

I'm not sure what surprises me more, his words or the guilt that comes with them. I shouldn't feel guilty, not about this. This is the right thing to do.

"It's okay. We get it," Finn assures me as I open my mouth to apologise – yes, apologise... what the hell is wrong with me?

Get a grip, Jade.

"Well, most of us. Sorry about the stray," Finn continues, and now he definitely has his brother in a headlock. Alex swears at him and tries to peel Finn's arm away, but to no avail. "It takes things a little longer to sink in through all this hair gel he uses."

Finally, he lets Alex go and, now, the kid's scowl is on par with Bailey's as he tries to fix his messed-up hair.

Looking back and forth between Bailey and Alex, I sigh when I notice the glum expression they share. Despite what Bailey might think, I don't actually like seeing her miserable and, as much as I might wish otherwise, Alex Coleman makes her the opposite of that.

To tell you the truth, he might be the only friend she's ever had – and I have to believe her words, that they are just friends, because the thought of them being anything more worries me.

It worries me a lot.

As always, the conflict of Bailey's safety versus her happiness weighs heavily on my chest. Only, this time, the danger her happiness holds for the rest of our family tips the scales in the favour of safety – whether she likes it or not.

And, selfishly, I'm sort of glad. I'm getting fed up of all the secrets and lies, of all the decisions I've been forced to make these past few weeks. More than that, I'm scared of my own actions – of the things I've done as a result of those decisions.

That night, the first night the Coleman's stepped foot into Wilson's café, I never would've believed it – any of it. I never would've believed that I'd let Bailey become friends with Alex, or that I'd ever step foot inside their house. I would've laughed in the face of anyone who told me that I'd willingly spend the night there, or that I'd someday accept a lift off Finn Coleman after he found me sitting broken-hearted on a bench. And never – in my life – would I have imagined that my opinion of the Coleman brothers could actually change, or that I would feel guilty for turning my back on them.

And, yet, here we are.

So, yes, I guess I am still scared – terrified, in fact – but it's for a whole new reason, this time.

I'm not scared of the Coleman's – even though I know they do things that I should be scared of. Instead, I'm scared of what this all could mean.

It was a slippery slope my mother found herself on, when she fell from grace into a world of crime and chemical-induced passivity, and I can't let myself slide down it, too. I won't make the same mistakes; I have to be smarter than her...

...Which is exactly why the next words I speak have to be another lie.

"Look, guys," I sigh, and Alex and Bailey both look at me. "I get that you hate this. This whole thing sucks, and it isn't fair. So, let's just make a deal, okay?"

Neither of them speaks so I keep talking.

"This problem with social is only going to last two months, right? So, please, can you just cool it on the secret meet-ups until it's over? Two months, tops – just half the summer – and then, come August, things will go back to normal. I promise."

It's a promise I break the moment I make it and, when I see the glance that Bailey and Alex share – reluctant, considering – I can see that the lie is working. 

In truth, I don't plan on ever letting them hang out again – and this lie gives me two whole months to figure out how to make that happen. Maybe this hiccup with social services is a blessing in disguise, after all. It gives me time to think.

Guilt eats at me but I refuse to let myself become its next meal.

This is the right decision. I hope this is the right decision.

How can it not be? It doesn't matter that I know (begrudgingly) that the brothers aren't a danger, or a potential threat, to Bailey. It doesn't matter because that doesn't make them any less dangerous. After all, it's not just about the Coleman's, is it?

It's about the people they associate with, too. It's about the fact that, just by being seen talking to the Coleman's, I almost found myself knifed on a housing estate. It's about the fact that Andrew pissed someone off, someone he shouldn't have, and they obviously had no qualms about running him down with a car to retaliate.

The thought of Bailey being in a situation like that, purely because of her friendship with Alex, makes my kneecaps turn to jelly. The thought of making another oversight like the one I made with Oscar, and Bailey being hurt as a result of it, makes me want to throw up.

I refuse to let my sister get hurt due to my own stupidity; I can't let something bad happen to Bailey because, like my mother, I'm dumb enough to put my trust in people I shouldn't.

Maybe that makes me a cold-hearted bitch. Maybe I'm okay with that.

"You can stay away from each other, just for two months... right?"

Finn interjects with a curveball I don't see coming as he says, "Or even just more than a few hours would be a great start."

At his brother's words, Alex suddenly seems to find his own shoes very interesting. Bailey closes her eyes in a wince, the international expression for 'busted'.

"Huh?" I ask, confused.

"Romeo and Juliet, here, decided to sneak out last night. This one left around ten," he flicks Alex in the back of the head again, "and didn't get back until well after two."

What?

Now, it's Alex's turn to wince, his cheeks turning a shade darker as he finally looks up at his older brother. He doesn't seem to know what to say, his hands shoved into the pockets of his black hoodie.

"What?" Finn asks, raising a sceptical eyebrow at his brother. "You didn't think we'd notice?"

Bailey steps in, speaking the words that Alex can't seem to find as he stares back down at his shoes, obviously uncomfortable.

"So, what?" Bailey asks. She glances at me and then quickly away again. "Social didn't come knocking, the world didn't implode... everything's fine. What's the big deal?"

What the fuck?

"Jesus, you two are like magnets," Finn rolls his eyes, staring between the two of them. "But you know what happens when one magnet turns around?" He spins Alex around and shoves him back in the direction he came from, rough enough to make his point as Alex stumbles away.

Alex takes the hint and sends Bailey a dejected wave. She returns it, her mouth dipped down at the corners into a worried frown.

And she does look worried which, in turn, makes me worried. I try to catch her eye but she refuses to look at me.

"Don't worry, Jade. I'll keep this one on a leash for the summer if I have to. I hope everything works out for you guys," Finn says, his kind words making the guilt nip harder, taking chunks from somewhere deep inside me.

"Thanks, Finn. I appreciate it," I sigh.

He opens his mouth to say something else but seems to think better of it, following after Alex as the pair start to walk away.

I watch as Finn knocks his shoulder into Alex's, his voice faintly audible as he mutters a quiet, "Luke's going to kill you."

As soon as I'm sure they're out of earshot, I turn on Bailey.

"Why the fuck are you covering for Alex?"

Last night, we had a family fun night of pizza and board games. It was a request from Stella, wanting us to do something together as a family after having such a shit day. And we did just that.

We started around eight with a game of Cluedo, completely lost track of time, and didn't pack up the board until gone midnight, several games later. Bailey had been there the whole time, snottily accusing Owen of cheating at every chance she got.

Wherever Alex went last night, it sure as hell wasn't to meet my sister.

"That is literally none of your business," Bailey replies. She shoves me back a step and angrily stomps away, back in the direction of our house. "Why do you always have to ruin everything?"

I can't stop the laugh of disbelief that escapes me, following after her with a shake of my head. She's the one willing to get thrown back into the foster care viper pit, giving up the only good placement we've ever had over a boy but – sure – I'm the one who ruins everything.

Her response only concretes my decision, confirming that it is the right one to make. I should never have let her go on that dumb, Elmstreet marathon in the first place.

What crap is Alex getting Bailey into? What's he got her lying for?

*********