“About keeping them?”
“You can’t harbor them without telling their father. He may try to bring kidnapping charges against you.”
“Him?” I cried. “He beat them.”
“I know. And the photographs of the injuries will help the case against him, but just because you’re their half-sister doesn’t mean you can provide a better situation. Nor does it mean a judge would grant you custody. Jim can go to classes and prove himself under control and get them back. You need to decide what you’re going to do.”
“Jada, I’m not going to send them back.”
“So, you’re going to keep them? The coffee shop is failing even after you burned through your father’s insurance money. You can’t sell real estate, run the coffee shop, and support these girls. They need school. Stability. A table to eat on every night. You have none of that.”
“I have tables,” I muttered, but the rest of my retort stalled in my throat. She was right. Half right, anyway. I had tables; they were just in the shop. The shop that was a failing mess and would potentially drag me into a pit of debt I had no way to swim out of.
Case in point—I’d forgotten to eat lunch. How would I keep them fed?
A rush of overwhelm slipped through me. Keeping myself afloat had been hit-or-miss since Dad died. I tightened my arms around my chest.
“If Ellie even had a whiff of suspicion that I would send them back, she’d run away,” I said. “She may be young, but I think she’d rather die trying to scrape a life out in the mountains than go back to Jim. She’s always been stubborn. And Lizbeth? She used to be soft as cotton. Now she’s protecting him.”
“They often protect their abusers.”
“She’s not made for this.”
“She’s doing a damn fine job,” Jada said quietly. “Despite her loyalty to her father, she brought them here, didn’t she? She may have saved her sister. Ellie may have been in for more than a kick in the ribs and a backhand to the face.”
I winced, picturing it.
“What if I don’t take them?”
“Then foster care is the next-best choice.”
The words turned my stomach. “Foster care?” I hissed.
Jada put a hand on my arm. “I know it’s not an option you like, but it’s one you need to consider.”
“The foster care system broke my mother.”
“Or saved her. It depends on how you look at it. If she was in foster care, her home life must have been pretty ugly. Your father told me that Kat had mental-health issues that had never been addressed. You can’t throw that on the foster system. Bethany, if you want them out of Jim’s hands, and you can’t do it yourself—something that no one would ask or expect of you—then there are really good families that can keep them safe.”
“The nightmares—”
“There are always nightmares. But there are successes too. You just don’t hear about them.” Jada gave me a comforting squeeze on the arm. “Just think about it, all right?”
After a long, traitorous pause, I nodded. “I will.”
“And think about talking to Kinoshi. He and I have done some family-law cases not unlike this together. He’d be good to talk to.”
The thought of Kinoshi, a local lawyer, sent a shiver through me. A ripple of disbelief followed. How had things devolved to this so quickly?
“Are the three of you safe for now?” Jada asked.
“Yes.”
“What if he comes?”
“I’m in the middle of town.”
Her gaze tapered. “That doesn’t make you safe. I know you can take care of yourself, but be aware that he will probably come looking for them. If this guy isn’t stable, things could get ugly, and I don’t like knowing you’re alone at that shop with them.”
My thoughts flitted to Mav. Not entirely alone. At least whenever he’d be there.
“Thanks, Jada. We’ll take extra precautions.”
“I’m always here for you,” she said, lifting a long, skinny finger. “Always. But right now, you have a big decision to face. Start gathering the facts, and let me know if you need to talk about it. In the meantime, get them lots of fresh air. Keep them active and engaged. Kids grieve with their hands and feet. The more you give them to do, the less they’ll need to lash out. Can you do that?”
I’d have to figure something out. They weren’t toddlers. They could do things on their own. Maybe Lizbeth could help me barista, and Ellie could clean at night. A trip to the library would easily set Lizbeth up for weeks, but what about Ellie?
“We’ll figure it out.”
She smiled, and warmth and relief lingered in it. “Good. I like hearing that. Keep in touch, and send them my way this weekend. I need some help with the horses and in the barn. Ellie strikes me as the kind of girl who would get along great with my new colt.”
We drove toward a lush sunset in near silence. The thin, pale line of Lizbeth’s lips gave her away. No doubt she’d heard or listened to what Jada and I had said. If Ellie had heard, she gave no sign. I didn’t want to hide the truth from Lizbeth. She deserved to know what was going on. But I didn’t want to scare her, either.
Because I had no idea what I was going to do.
When I pulled into the back parking lot of the dark Frolicking Moose, my stomach sank. This catastrophe was always waiting. Always needing more than I could give.
Was parenting different?
Parenting abused kids?
Ellie climbed out and hurried to the back door with the blanket over her head. The only thing behind us was the endless expanse of the reservoir and Dad’s favorite canoe.
“I, uh, forgot to get dinner,” I said sheepishly. “How about the two of you watch a movie on my laptop upstairs while I go grab us something to eat?”
“Sure,” Lizbeth said, quickly adding, “thanks. Let me know if I can help at all. I mean, to make it easier. I’m not even that hungry.”
Her stomach growled.
I quirked an eyebrow at her.
She blushed. No doubt she was trying to make this easy, to be as small as possible, so they didn’t disturb my life too much. Her quick smile, a little too forced, made me sick to my stomach. Before Lizbeth could go, I grabbed her wrist, stopping her.
She whipped around a little too fast, eyes wide. I released her immediately.
“Sorry,” I said, “I . . . I didn’t think that through.”
“It’s fine. I’m fine. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Her rushed words made me want to rake my nails down Jim’s face. How had Mama stayed married to him? “You heard me and Jada talking, didn’t you?”
Lizbeth’s eyes widened. She opened her mouth to deny it, but then stopped when I held up a hand and shook my head.
“Yes.”
“You’ve done an amazing job so far, Lizbeth, keeping the both of you alive and getting here. You’re also far more intelligent than I am. So, it wouldn’t be very honest of me to lie to you and say everything was going to be a storybook from here on out.”
Her expression fell, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of something back there. Rage, maybe. The same steel that Ellie showed every moment. Lizbeth had it too—only it was way back there. Deep. Livid. Stewing.