The sound of typing came over the line. “That piece of things is less important right now. We need to establish you as the caregiver she left her children with. Has that happened in the past, as well?”
“Yes, the kids have stayed with me for a week the last two summers.”
“Good. And had Chelsea found a home in Sutter Lake yet? Anything that would give us proof she intended to make her home there?”
My throat constricted as I struggled to get the words out. All I could see was the bright future we’d planned. All of the things I’d wanted to share with her and the kids about this place. The birthdays and holidays we’d never have. “She was staying with me while she looked for a place. But we registered the kids for school here a few weeks ago.”
More typing sounded. “That’s good. It means if it goes to court, we’ll be able to do that here.”
I breathed a sigh of relief at that. I would’ve gone to hell and back for Justin and Lyla, but having to trek to Portland for court dates, to be in the vicinity of my parents, to be forced to drown in all of my memories there, it would’ve been rough. “Great news.”
“Now, is there a chance your parents might be willing to handle this in mediation? Or that they may simply let you take custody of the children?”
“No. There’s no chance.” Each word seemed to rip at my throat. The razor’s edge of the hatred I knew they felt for me, slicing.
“I need the full backstory there. We’ll get into every detail when I come out to Sutter Lake tomorrow, but for now, I need the broad strokes. Remember, I’m on your side. But if I don’t have the full picture, I won’t be equipped to help you.”
I stared at one of the half-dozen photos on my desk. Before Chelsea, Justin, and Lyla came back into my life, there’d only been one. A picture of Kennedy and me the day she’d broken ground on the new center. Now, they crowded my desk. So many memories in just a couple of years.
“My father was physically abusive, and my mother covered for him.”
There was a pause on the line and then typing. “I’m incredibly sorry you went through that.”
“I won’t let the same happen to my niece and nephew.”
“We’ll do everything we can to prevent them from being placed with your parents. I have to ask you—is there anything they could use as ammunition against you?”
I squeezed my eyes closed, gripping the phone tighter. I’d regretted getting involved with Derek countless times. Trusting him. Giving him everything I had. But I’d never regretted it more than in this moment. “Yes.”
There was no typing now. “Tell me. And remember, this is a safe space. We’ve all made mistakes, Anna.”
Except mine would haunt me for the rest of my life. If it sent Justin and Lyla into my parents’ care, I’d never recover. But that wouldn’t happen. I would take the kids and run first. “When I was fifteen, my boyfriend and I were arrested for possession with intent to distribute. The drugs weren’t mine, but he cut a deal first. It got put on me. My lawyer took a plea deal that sent me to juvie for thirty months for possession. They dropped the distribution charges.”
Keisha was quiet. I couldn’t read her silence. Doubt, like anyone else I’d tried to plead my case to? Judgement for my stupidity? “I swear to you, I’ve never done drugs in my life. My tests were clean then, and I’ll take any test you want me to now. And my fingerprints were only found on one bag. An old makeup bag I’d left at my boyfriend’s house.”
“I’m sorry that happened to you. It sounds like your attorney didn’t know what the hell they were doing.”
I gripped the edge of my desk. “It was a court-appointed lawyer, who seemed to be in a rush.”
“Your family couldn’t afford private counsel?”
It was my turn to be quiet. Why did this feel like the greatest shame of all? “My parents didn’t even come to the police station when I was arrested. They told the detective they were done with me.”
My eyes burned as I pictured the pity in Detective Markum’s eyes. He’d never forgotten me. Visited me at least once a month while I was in juvie. He had been the one to pick me up the day I was released. The one who found Hope House when my situation in Portland only got worse. He had been my only glimmer of light in years.
“I’m going to be honest. Your parents sound like real assholes.”
I barked out a laugh. I hadn’t realized just how much I needed that release of pressure. “Understatement of the century.”
“You need to be prepared, Anna. I have a feeling this is going to get ugly.”
Every millimeter of breathing room the laugh had given me disappeared in a flash. “I do, too.”
Keisha’s chair squeaked, and I could hear her shoes clicking across a hard floor as if she were pacing. “We’re going to need every single piece of dirt we can find on your parents, and every good thing you’ve ever done on your side. Cain has already recommended a private investigator we can use to help.”
I could see the case mounting in my mind. A retired couple who was home all day and could devote every moment to two children. Pillars of their community. Dad, a deacon at the church. Mom heading up a volunteer group that crocheted blankets for people undergoing cancer treatments.
And then there was me. Barely a high school education. Spent my eighteenth birthday in jail. Had called a shelter home for more than ten years. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who the courts would award custody to.
My ribs tightened around my lungs, and my throat constricted. I couldn’t seem to pull air in, no matter how hard I tried. I heard Keisha’s voice in the background, but it sounded far away.
Then, someone was in front of me. Turning my desk chair. Mason’s face filled my vision, too beautiful for his own good. He tugged the phone from my hand, speaking into it briefly before setting it down.
“Look at me, Anna. Breathe with me, nice and easy.”
His hands came to my face, tipping my head back. The feel of those palms, rougher than I would’ve imagined, knocked me out of my panic. Air slowly filled my lungs.
“That’s it. Keep it slow.”
I followed his instructions until oxygen made its way back to my brain. As it did, I realized his hands still cupped my jaw. I pushed my chair back, and they fell away. The absence made me feel so incredibly alone. “Sorry about that.”
Mason frowned as he straightened. “You don’t have to apologize.”
“I just…” I searched for something, any excuse for my freak-out that would allow me to keep my boundaries intact. I’d already broken them once last night, letting a whole room of people know about something I’d never told anyone but Derek. I couldn’t take any more.
Mason’s jaw hardened as if he knew I was preparing to lie to him. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t weave some excuse to a man who’d been so incredibly kind to me over the past twenty-four hours.
“I went to prison. Juvenile detention. For almost three years. Drug possession. I never did drugs, and they weren’t mine, but that didn’t matter. You may not believe me, and that’s okay. I lived in a shelter almost every day since, until I moved into the director’s cottage. My parents will use all of that to try to take Justin and Lyla.”