Chương 4
“I think she should be somewhere she isn’t afraid of breakfast.”
The first officer looked over. Claire lowered her voice.
Victoria leaned closer. “You don’t know what it’s like to raise a child alone.”
“No.”
“You get to visit. Bring gifts. Draw cats. Take her for ice cream and hand her back when she’s tired or difficult.”
“I know.”
“You don’t know the school calls, the bills, the appointments, the lying, the way Daniel shows up with promises and disappears. You don’t know what she’s like after he gets in her head.”
“She spilled juice.”
“She never listens until something goes wrong.”
Claire stared at her sister. Honey-brown hair, pale gray shirt, a tiny splash of egg dried near one cuff. Victoria looked like someone who had endured an emergency, not caused one. It was part of her skill. She could stand at the center of damage and somehow appear burdened by everyone else’s reaction.
A nurse called Claire’s name.
Lily was awake.
She lay in a hospital bed with the head raised slightly. Her hair had been retied loosely, though not with the blue band. A paper bracelet circled her wrist. The bruise above her eyebrow had darkened at the edges.
Claire stopped near the doorway.
“Hey, bug.”
Lily’s eyes moved toward her slowly.
“Aunt Claire?”
“I’m here.”
“My head hurts.”
“I know.”
“Did I break Grandma’s bowl?”
The question was so quiet Claire almost missed it.
“The bowl broke when it fell. That isn’t your job to worry about.”
Lily blinked. “Mom said I shouldn’t have moved my chair.”
Claire glanced toward the empty corner of the room. “When did she say that?”
“Just now.”
“Your mom said the bowl fell because you moved your chair?”
Lily’s eyes closed.
Claire sat beside the bed. “You don’t have to explain anything.”
“I spilled.”
“People spill things.”
“Mom said I’m careless.”
Claire’s hand tightened around the metal bed rail.
“Your mom was angry,” she said carefully. “But the bowl fell because she hit the table. None of that was your fault.”
Lily opened her eyes again. Fear moved through them.
“Don’t tell her I said anything.”
The room seemed to narrow.
“I won’t make you talk right now.”
“She’ll be more mad.”
“Not at you.”
Lily looked unconvinced.
Claire reached into her pocket and found the blue hair tie. “I brought this.”
Lily stared at it for several seconds, then lifted one hand. Claire placed it in her palm.
“It was under the table,” Claire said.
“My favorite.”
“I know.”
Lily closed her fingers around it.
A nurse entered to check the monitor. She asked Lily whether the light hurt her eyes, whether she felt sick, whether she knew where she was. Lily answered slowly. Hospital. Friday. She was not sure what month it was.
“January,” the nurse said. “That’s okay. You had a hard morning.”
After she left, Lily whispered, “Is Mom in trouble?”
Claire looked at the bruise.
“Adults are talking about what happened.”
“Am I?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Lily studied Claire’s face as though searching for a catch.
“Can I stay with Grandma?”
The request surprised her.
“Maybe.”
“Not Mom?”
Claire pulled the chair closer.
“Right now, your job is to rest. The adults will figure out where you’ll be safe.”
Lily turned her face toward the window.
Claire had used the word safe without planning to. Once spoken, it remained in the room.
A child protective services investigator arrived that afternoon. Her name was Marisol Vega, and she wore navy slacks, sensible shoes, and a raincoat damp at the shoulders. She spoke first with the medical team, then with Victoria, then with Lily alone.
Victoria objected to being excluded.
“She is concussed,” she said. “She can’t give a reliable statement.”
Marisol’s expression did not change. “I’m aware of her medical condition.”
“You shouldn’t question her without me.”
“I’m not conducting a criminal interrogation.”
“She’s eight.”
“That’s why I’m going to speak gently and briefly.”
Victoria looked toward the police officer, expecting support. He glanced at his notes.
Claire waited with Harold and Margaret at the far end of the hall.
Harold had begun rubbing the side of his thumb with his index finger, a habit Claire remembered from childhood. He did it when bills arrived, when Victoria was suspended in high school, when Claire told them she was leaving nursing school and switching to occupational therapy. The skin had turned pink.
Margaret stared at the secured door.
“She asked for me,” she said.
“Who?”
“Lily. The nurse said she asked whether she could stay with us.”
Claire said nothing.
Margaret looked at her. “We can take care of her.”
“Can you protect her from Victoria?”
The question landed harder than Claire intended.
“Of course.”
“Would you tell Victoria she couldn’t come over?”
Margaret opened her mouth, then closed it.
“Would you call the police if she came anyway?”
“She wouldn’t do that.”
“Would you?”
Harold stopped rubbing his thumb.
Margaret whispered, “She’s our daughter.”
“So is Lily’s mother,” Claire said. “And Lily is eight.”
“That isn’t fair.”
“No. It isn’t.”
Harold leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Your mother means we don’t want to abandon either of them.”
Claire looked at him. “You can love Victoria without giving her access to Lily.”
“She’ll think we betrayed her.”
“She will.”
Margaret began crying again, quietly this time. A woman in scrubs passed them carrying a container of soup and a plastic spoon.
Claire felt cruel. She also felt clear, and the combination frightened her.
Marisol returned after twenty minutes.
She asked Claire to step into a family room. Harold and Margaret followed at her request. Victoria remained outside with another caseworker.
“Lily will not be discharged to her mother today,” Marisol said.
Margaret covered her mouth.
May you like
“What happens now?” Claire asked.
“We’re arranging a temporary safety placement while the investigation continues. Lily identified you and her grandparents as people she feels safe with. We need to assess the available homes and determine who can meet the immediate conditions.”
