Chương 4
I could have talked about determination as if determination were a childcare provider with CPR certification.
“Not all of them.”
“How many?”
“Maybe half.”
Rachel exhaled slowly beside me.
Judge Lawson said, “Then why should I place the children with you today?”
“Because the other half can be built without separating them first.”
Hale rose again.
“That assumes the department should gamble with five children while Mr. Vance constructs a support system around himself.”
I turned toward him.
“He’s right.”
The admission stopped him.
I hated saying it.
I hated him being right.
But the children did not need me winning an argument.
They needed the adults in the room to stop treating certainty like something either side possessed.
“I am asking you to take a risk,” I said.
Hale sat halfway, then remained standing.
I looked at Delaney.
“So is she.”
Delaney’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“Every option is a risk.”
“My house could fail.”
“The split placements could damage them.”
“One family could disrupt.”
“Two could.”
“The baby could bond somewhere else while her siblings become people she sees on Tuesdays.”
My voice started climbing, and Rachel squeezed my wrist.
I lowered it.
“I’m not saying choose me because I care more.”
“That would be arrogant.”
“I’m saying don’t pretend the safer paperwork means the safer childhood.”
Hale said, “And don’t pretend emotional unity makes an untested home safe.”
“I’m not.”
Judge Lawson looked between us.
“Good.”
His tone cut across the room.
“Because this proceeding will become considerably less useful if either of you starts arguing with slogans.”
No one answered.
The ventilation fan clicked off.
For the first time all morning, the courtroom was completely still.
Judge Lawson turned to Delaney.
“If the court ordered a provisional emergency placement with intensive department oversight for fourteen days, could your office supervise it?”
She did not answer immediately.
Hale looked at her.
So did I.
“Fourteen days?” she asked.
“Fourteen.”
“With authority to remove if safety concerns arise?”
“Yes.”
“And mandatory service compliance?”
“Yes.”
Delaney pushed her glasses higher.
“Our staffing is stretched.”
“I am aware.”
“We would need authorization from my supervisor for enhanced home visits.”
“You may tell your supervisor the court is requesting a response before noon.”
Hale checked the wall clock.
It was ten forty-three.
Delaney’s lips pressed into a thin line.
“With sufficient authorization, yes.”
Something moved through me so sharply that I grabbed the edge of the table.
Not relief.
Relief would have been premature.
It was possibility, and possibility was almost more frightening.
Judge Lawson looked at Rachel.
“Counsel, could your client provide proof of overnight backup care by this afternoon?”
Rachel answered before I could.
“We can attempt to do so.”
“Can he?”
She looked at me.
Mrs. Ellis could handle emergencies.
She had said so.
But overnight care for five children was different from being the neighbor who came over when somebody had a fever.
“I don’t know.”
Judge Lawson nodded.
“Better answer.”
Then he looked at me.
“I mean that.”
I said nothing.
“This court does not need optimism from you, Mr. Vance.”
“It needs accurate information.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You are going to discover that five children can make a liar out of every confident plan you have.”
A court clerk at the side table smiled without looking up.
Judge Lawson noticed.
“You have children, Ms. Porter?”
“Three.”
“Then you may be overqualified to confirm the point.”
A small ripple of laughter loosened the room.
It disappeared when the side door opened again.
This time the court officer stepped in alone.
She walked directly to Delaney and whispered something.
Delaney’s face changed immediately.
“What happened?” Judge Lawson asked.
The officer hesitated.
“Leo is refusing to let one of the children leave the waiting room.”
I was already standing.
Rachel pulled me back down by my jacket.
Judge Lawson said, “Which child?”
“The baby.”
Delaney was moving before the answer ended.
“Why?”
The officer glanced toward me.
“A foster transport worker arrived early.”
Hale closed his eyes.
The officer continued.
“He thought the hearing was nearly finished and came to collect the infant for the separate placement.”
Judge Lawson’s voice became very quiet.
“Was he instructed to do that?”
“I don’t know, Your Honor.”
Delaney said, “Not by me.”
From beyond the closed door came a child’s scream.
Not the baby.
Leo.
I stood again.
This time Rachel did not stop me.
Judge Lawson was already on his feet.
“Court is in recess.”
I crossed the room before the bailiff could decide whether I was allowed to.
The hallway looked nothing like the controlled disaster I had imagined.
It was worse because it was ordinary.
A man in a county polo shirt stood beside an empty infant carrier.
A receptionist was talking urgently into a phone.
Maya cried against the wall.
June had crawled beneath a row of chairs.
Ben stood beside her, repeating, “No car, no car, no car,” with increasing volume.
And Leo was sitting on the floor in the corner with six-month-old Ellie clutched against his chest.
He had wrapped both arms around her.
Too tightly.
Ellie was crying.
“Leo.”
He looked at me with a face so furious it hardly looked young.
“No.”
“I’m not taking her.”
“No.”
“Okay.”
I stopped several feet away.
Behind me came Delaney, then Hale, then Judge Lawson, who had apparently abandoned whatever dignity judges were supposed to maintain outside their benches.
The transport worker lifted both hands.
“I wasn’t trying to scare anybody.”
Leo shouted, “You took her.”
“I picked up the carrier.”
“You took her.”
The man looked helplessly toward Delaney.
She said, “Give us space.”
He stepped back.
I crouched.
My knees cracked loud enough that Ben briefly stopped chanting.
Leo’s eyes never left mine.
“You said I wasn’t in trouble.”
“You’re not.”
“They’re taking Ellie.”
“I don’t know.”
His face twisted.
“You always say that.”
The words hit exactly where they were aimed.
I nearly gave him the answer he wanted.
May you like
Nobody is taking her.
You’re staying together.
