Chương 3
“Mr. Vale. I didn’t realize you were dining with us.”
“I wasn’t,” Arthur said.
Gordon attempted a smile. “We have policies for these situations.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“The children entered without a guardian. They were disturbing guests.”
June stared at him. The boy ate with both hands, crumbs sticking to his wet face.
Arthur rose carefully, one hand on the edge of a nearby table. A server reached toward him, but he waved her away.
“Your employee was trying not to frighten them,” Arthur said. “You are failing at the same task.”
Gordon’s cheeks reddened. “I only meant that liability—”
“I know what you meant.”
Arthur had spent decades frightening men by speaking quietly. He disliked how easily the old skill returned.
Police arrived first, two officers in dark winter jackets. A paramedic unit followed because Marcus had mentioned the boy seemed weak. The dining room, which had begun to recover its noise, fell silent again.
June tried to run.
She grabbed her brother and darted toward the hallway leading to the restrooms. Gordon moved instinctively to block her, then stepped aside when Arthur shouted his name. Marcus went after the children but stopped before the hallway entrance.
“June,” he called. “I’m not touching you. The exit back there is locked.”
She appeared at the corner, holding the boy behind her.
One officer, a middle-aged woman named Reddick, removed her hat and crouched. She did not approach. “I have a little brother too,” she said.
June’s eyes narrowed. “You’re old.”
Officer Reddick glanced at Arthur. “You caught me.”
The remark was not funny enough to make June laugh, but it interrupted the panic. That was something.
The paramedics checked the children near a small table screened from the dining room by folding partitions. Milo—that was the boy’s name—had no fever, but his blood sugar was low enough that they gave him juice and watched him drink it. June refused an examination until Milo’s was finished.
Officer Reddick asked questions. June answered only those that involved her mother. Tessa wore a green coat. Her hair was brown and cut near her shoulders. Her left hand did not close all the way. She had a scar across the wrist and two fingers that bent strangely. She carried a blue canvas bag and an envelope wrapped in a grocery bag because it had been raining.
“Where were you staying?” Reddick asked.
June stared at the table.
Arthur sat opposite her. He kept his hands visible.
“The Lakeview Motor Lodge,” she finally said. “Room two-sixteen.”
Gordon, who had remained nearby despite being told twice to leave, made a small sound through his nose. The Lakeview was not near Lakeview and barely qualified as a motel. It rented rooms by the week beside an expressway ramp.
“How did you get downtown?” Reddick asked.
“Bus.”
“By yourselves?”
June’s chin lifted. “I know buses.”
No one challenged that.
The motel manager confirmed Tessa Carter and two children had occupied room 216 until the previous morning. Their belongings were still inside. The room had been paid through Friday by a church voucher. Tessa had left at eight-thirty carrying a bag. Security footage showed her walking toward the bus stop.
Officer Reddick radioed the description. A missing-person entry went out. Hospitals were called. Transit police checked overnight reports.
Nothing came back immediately.
June sat with Milo asleep against her side and watched every adult in the room make promises in softer words. We’re working on it. We’re going to figure out where she went. We need to make sure you’re safe tonight.
Safe tonight meant somewhere without their mother.
A child-welfare investigator arrived shortly before noon. Dana Kim wore practical black shoes and carried two phones, one of which rang before she introduced herself. She silenced it, apologized to no one, and sat beside June instead of across from her.
“I won’t lie to you,” Dana said. “You and Milo can’t leave here alone.”
June’s face became blank.
“I’m going to try to keep you together. I believe that matters. But I have to find a place with two beds and the right approval. That can take time.”
“You said try.”
“I did.”
“Everybody says try before they do something bad.”
Dana rubbed a thumb across a scratch on her phone case. “Sometimes people say it because they don’t know yet. Sometimes they say it because they’re cowards. I mean the first one.”
Arthur, standing several feet away, looked at Dana with unexpected gratitude.
He asked whether he could pay for a hotel suite and staff.
Dana looked him over. “Are you related?”
“No.”
“A licensed foster parent?”
“No.”
“An emergency placement approved by the state?”
“No.”
“Then you can buy every room in Chicago and it will not change what I’m allowed to do in the next hour.”
Arthur felt heat rise into his face. “I was only trying to help.”
“I know. Rich men usually are.”
She said it without cruelty. That made it land harder.
An emergency foster home on the South Side had space for both children, at least for the night. The foster parents had cared for siblings before. Dana showed June photographs of the bedroom and the older couple who lived there.
June looked at Arthur. “Are you coming?”
The question caught him unprepared.
“I can follow the car,” he said.
Dana shook her head. “Not today.”
“Why not?”
“Because the children have just met you, and you’re involved in whatever brought their mother here. I need to understand that before you become part of their placement.”
Arthur opened his mouth.
June turned away before he could say anything.
Marcus packed food for the children while Gordon watched from the doorway. Fruit, rolls, two cartons of milk, turkey sandwiches, and a box of small butter cookies. When Gordon told him the foster home would provide meals, Marcus continued packing.
“Then they’ll have extra,” he said.
Gordon’s face tightened. “We’ll discuss this after your shift.”
May you like
Marcus folded the bag closed. “Sure.”
June took it without thanking him. At the door, she stopped and looked back at Arthur.
