KASEY

The small office is suffocating me, like the walls are going to close in at any moment. My knee bounces while I look around, taking in the pictures sitting on the brown desk. The children in it are laughing. The woman in another is smiling adoringly at her husband. 

The black clock on the wall taunts me, every tick making my heart race a little more impatiently. The meeting was supposed to start three minutes and twenty-four seconds ago. Maybe it’s a bit obsessive that I’m counting, but this meeting will tell me what happens to Taylor.

My clammy palms run against my thighs as I look toward the door for the sixth time since sitting down. The head detective’s secretary told me there was a problem he needed to take care of, and that he wouldn’t be long.

Four minutes, five seconds. 

Voices outside the door become nearer until it creaks open. Chief Daniell walks in with an older woman behind him. My eyes travel to Jake, who remains outside the threshold. 

“Since Officer Caldwell knows you, he can’t be part of this case,” the chief tells me, seeing who I’m looking at. 

Jake gives me a reassuring smile and closes the door to his boss’s office. 

I turn to look at the older woman. 

“I’m Amy,” she greets, holding out her hand. “I work with the police department when it comes to cases with children involved. I’m from Child Protective Services.”

My eyes bug out of my head, and panic ensues as I ask, “You’re going to take away my sister?”

“No, no,” she assures me quickly, squeezing my hand. “It’s nothing like that.”

“Ms. Brooks simply needs to be here to go over what the next step is for your sister. She’s been given a basic explanation of the situation, and she wants to help guide the process.”

The process. It sounds so formal.

She takes a seat next to me, and Chief Daniell takes his seat across from us behind his desk.

“While we can’t go over specifics of your mother’s case, your sister is our primary concern since she’s a minor.”

“Why can’t you tell me the specifics?”

“It’s against policy, Kasey. It’s nothing personal …”

I frown. “It’s not like I’ll spit in your eggs if you tell me something bad, Jeff. I’ve known you for how long? You know I’m better than that.”

He sighs. “I know you are, but that doesn’t mean I can bend the rules for you. Just like Officer Caldwell can’t. You’re lucky I’m ignoring the fact he’s probably listening at the door right now, because he is a conflict of interest.”

Jake has been along for the ride ever since things picked up with the case. My mother contacted me a month ago, but it came from an unknown number. There was no way to trace it. No way to tell them where she was. She’s never been gone this long, but Jake tells me she’ll come home sooner or later. Then we can get the rest figured out. 

“One day at a time, Kasey,” he assures me.

But living day-by-day has never suited me. I’ve always been the planner. My calendar is color-coded with Taylor’s appointments, dance practice, and school events. Once a month, we plan a day out just the two of us. Everything is by the book. Everything is safe that way. 

But it’s never based on how I feel one day versus the next, because how I feel doesn’t matter anymore. It’s about what’s best for Taylor, and what’s best for her is balance. 

“But if I’m being impacted by whatever is going on with my mother, I should have the right to know the details. Especially if I’ll have to explain it to Taylor someday,” I argue.

Jeff swipes his hand across his bald head. “All I can tell you is that your mother is in some trouble, kid. It’s not looking good for her. And your little sister could get taken away because of it. CPS went to your mother’s house and saw what conditions Taylor lived under. Not only is your mother being charged for drug possession, but the intent to sell, child neglect, and child endangerment. She won’t be getting off easy.”

I expected as much from the start, so I don’t know why he’s telling me like I might break from the news. 

“I’d hope not. She’s an awful mother.”

“Kid …”

“I won’t lie to you about her. We all know she won’t be earning mother of the year, that’s for sure. And I got Taylor away from that house as soon as I saw how bad it was and I could provide some place better. That means something, doesn’t it?”

“Of course it does, dear,” Amy intervenes. “We’re glad Taylor has you. It’s great that she has somebody to love and care for her.”

I hear the impending but in her words.

She gives me a sympathetic smile. “But your father is technically the next in line to claim guardianship of her.”

My throat closes up.

I saw this coming. Prepared for it even. It’s been something I dreaded for months now, but the longer the process took, the longer I had to worry about it every second. 

Now it’s real. The possibility of her being taken away now cemented by somebody beyond my control. 

“Your mother and him never actually divorced, so legally he’s still responsible for both of you. But since you’re a legal adult and Taylor isn’t, he’s still responsible for her upbringing.”

The news hits me like an angry gust of wind. Clearly she heard wrong. Or maybe she read the report of their marriage status wrong. It’s bound to happen. After all, we all make mistakes.

I let out a shaky breath. “You’re wrong. Mom told me that they divorced years ago … that he’s remarried.”

Jeff speaks up. “We looked into it, Kasey. They aren’t divorced. I’m sorry, but she lied to you.”

I put my face in my hands. I’m not even shocked at her lying. She’s done plenty of it over the years. I’m just shocked that I was stupid enough to believe her this whole time. I should have stopped a long time ago.

I'll get better, Kasey. 

I'll get help. 

I'll be the mother you girls deserve.

Lies. All fucking lies. 

So, really, I’m the stupid one here. I’m just the naïve girl who believed her cracked up mother for no reason. Not once did she prove herself to me. She never tried to change. Never tried to attempt helping raise Taylor. 

So why the hell did I hold on this whole time? 

“He doesn’t want her,” I inform them coolly. “He hasn’t spoken to any of us since he left.”

I’ve made a list of reasons why my father would be the worst possible choice for Taylor, and I’ve memorized it for this very moment. 

“And that’s good for your case,” Amy comforts.

I get that she’s trying to help, to comfort me, but for some reason all she’s doing is making my blood boil ten times faster. 

“Stop saying case,” I snap. “Stop making this sound like it’s a legal thing. Does this really have to go to court and become a huge deal?”

“Kasey,” Jeff warns. “I know this is stressful on you. I understand—”

“No you don't! You have the perfect family, Jeff. You’ve got a wife who loves you and adores your kids. How can you understand this at all?”

His face is stoic, not giving away an ounce of emotion. It’s the same face he uses in all situations like this at work. Outside the office, he actually smiles like a human and not some emotionally constipated robot. “I’ve seen my fair share of cases, young lady. I’ve been down the block before. While I may not understand on the same level as you, I still understand. I sympathize. Amy and I want to help you, but you have to go about this the right way, or you’ll just hurt yourself and your sister. We know you don’t want that.”

His firm, fatherly tone makes me snap my lips shut. I know better than to argue with him. He has a point. I want this to go smoothly for me and Taylor. I can’t afford losing her or harming her in this battle. 

I brush my disheveled hair behind my ears. “I just want to know if I have a chance. He hasn’t been interested in years. I don’t see why he would be now. I’m the one who has been taking care of her. Me. Not him.”

“And the court will acknowledge that,” Jeff assures me, like that will make a difference.

It’s his word against the courts though.

Amy steps back into the conversation. “It may not have to go to court in a formal sense. Legally, a lot will be done there. But your father can choose to relinquish his guardianship and make sure you get custody, which won’t mean a huge custody trial.” 

I close my eyes, my mind reeling with what-ifs—a dangerous mind fuck. “What if … what if he does want her? What happens then? Where will she go? Will I ever see her?”

Amy puts her hand on mine. “We don’t even know if he does. We haven’t contacted him yet.”

They haven’t?

“When are you going to?”

“Soon. Maybe today. It’ll depend on if we get his information. We’ve been looking into him for a while now, since this investigation opened up.”

My brows arch. Do they not even know where he lives then? His phone number? Anything? 

“We need to make sure that he’s going to be a good choice for Taylor. That he has a good home, a decent job income. The same will go for you, if you’re the favored option.”

Anxiety ripples through me. 

I have other lists, too. Lists of things that could be used against me. I work as a waitress, making minimum wage. Rent isn’t bad considering the hours I work, but it tends to be enough for me. Just me. Tips help, but I don’t think it’ll be considered enough to raise a child. 

Not to mention my apartment is a small two-bedroom. Sure, Taylor gets her own room, but will they think that’s enough? I mean, I’m not the type of person who stuffs a kid in a closet under the stairs. Because first, I don’t have stairs, and second, I’m not an asshole like the Dursley’s from Harry Potter.

I still have to finish reading that book. 

Jeff breaks me from my thoughts. “I can see the wheels turning in your head, kid. You need to take a breather. Don’t worry about it. Everyone in this town knows you’re a good kid, with a good reputation, and a steady job. Don’t stress about this. Not yet.”

Not yet. But soon, because this whole thing is bound to be a huge mess. Most custody cases are from what I hear or see in the news.

“Why don’t you let Caldwell take you home for the day,” Jeff suggests, looking at my face. I’m probably pale, because I certainly feel sick. 

“I should be here when you talk to him.”

“Kasey—”

“He didn’t just walk out on her!”

“No, he didn’t. But staying only seems like a bad idea. You’re angry. You’re scared for your sister. Your emotions are running too high—”

“Don’t talk about my emotions, Jeff. You should know not to speak of a woman’s emotions when she’s upset. It’s like telling us to calm down. Bad move.”

Amy nods in agreement, and the motion reminds me that she’s even here. 

He sighs heavily. “Fine. Ignore me and my ignorance. But for the love of god, Miller, go home. Taylor will be out of school in a few hours, won’t she? Go to her. Make a good dinner. Spend time together.”

What’s left unspoken is, Because who knows how this will go.

Apparently, Jeff thinks that staying by myself isn’t going to end well. What did he think I'd do? Hunt down my father myself? Demand that he sign over all custody? Threaten his life until he does?

All tempting, but never something I’d do. 

So here I am, sitting on the couch with Jake’s arm around my shoulders, letting the warmth from his body try to comfort me while blindly watching some sappy movie about love at first sight. Jake seems more into it than I am, but I try pretending I’m interested. 

I never believed in happily-ever-after. I consider myself, and always have considered myself, too much of a realist to think that true love exists. And sure, people can assume it’s because of my parent’s failed marriage, but it’s more than that.

There’s a desirable image surrounding love that’s unattainable. In books, the heroine usually always gets the hero. The white knight rescues the princess, and they ride away in the sunset. In the movies, five years pass and suddenly the high school sweethearts have a family and a beautiful house. 

But I can’t picture any of that. When I think about the future, I don’t see anything. No dream guy. No white picket fences. No aspirations. 

How can I expect Taylor to believe in love like she deserves if I can’t even do it myself? It isn’t like our parents define who we are. What my mother has done doesn’t cement my fate or Taylor’s. Yet here I am, biting my nails at the possibility of failing in life—doing a faceplant in the gravel in front of the world to see.

Halfway through the movie, I can’t stay still anymore watching the romance unfold. I squirm out of his hold, and he drops his arm.

He fills the silence. “I won’t ask if you’re okay, because that seems like a stupid question,” he states, sitting straighter. “But I hope you’re at least trying to be.”

I refrain from scoffing. “You know, Jeff didn’t need to send a babysitter. Last I checked, part of your job description wasn’t watching movies with me to distract me from life.”

“I’m not babysitting. I’m here for moral support,” he corrects softly. 

I hear the sincerity in his words, but it just isn’t enough to break past the irritation that’s been building since we left the police department earlier.

I roll my eyes. “What if I don’t want moral support? What if I want complete silence to create a diabolical plan to take down my dad?”

He laughs, and it shakes the couch. “I don’t think there’s a bone in your body evil enough to create some diabolical plan against your father.”

“But if I did …”

His face gets serious. “Then I’d have to stop you, obviously. Harassment, assault, and murder don’t look good on people’s records. I’m a cop. I’d know these things.”

Find a man who will embrace the crazy, I was told once. Anybody who doesn’t is only holding you back, Rosie had told me once.

I shift on the couch, so I’m sitting in a kneeling position with my feet tucked under my butt. It isn’t like I want him to actually let me get away with potential murder, because I can’t picture that day ever coming, but it would be nice if he lightened the mood. Instead, he turns into the serious cop that he is. Something admirable, I suppose. He loves his job. But being here for me when I need him is something I wouldn’t mind more. 

“You have to get your mind off it,” he tells me, sighing. 

“How?” I doubt. “You try pretending like your world might not be flipped over again. You don’t have siblings to worry about. And if you did, Rosie would have taken care of you guys, because she’s an amazing person.” 

He doesn’t say anything, but contemplates what I say. He can’t refute my claim, because he knows I’m right. Rosie is an amazing woman, who dedicates her life to her family. Even after Jake’s dad passed away, she made it work.

It makes me wonder how worth it something is to want to fight that hard. It’s what I want for Taylor, but somebody else? 

It just doesn’t seem likely.

I lean back against the couch cushion. “Have you ever wanted something to work out so bad that you feel like it consumes you? Like it’s all you can think about?”

I'm met by silence for what feels like forever.

“I …” Creases form in his forehead, and I can tell he’s genuinely thinking about it. The concentration it takes tells me the answer even before he says it. “No, I don’t think I have.”

I nod, readjusting again on the couch. “Well that’s what it feels like for me when it comes to Taylor. Everything I do is for her, and I’m terrified of failing her—letting her down. I want her to live with me, but there are so many obstacles in the way. And … it’s just hard.”

He gives me a small smile, his eyes a softer shade than they were in his contemplation. “At least you can admit that you’re afraid. I would be too if I were in your shoes. And as much as you don’t want to hear it, obsessing over this won’t help. Chief made some good suggestions. You and her should spend some time together. Watch a movie and junk out.”

“If I do that, it’ll feel like I’m preparing for good-bye, and then I’ll only obsess more.”

“What will you do then? Lock her in her room and never let her out?”

I swat his arm. “Don’t be stupid. I planned on ordering pizza and then reading to her. We’re almost finished with the first Harry Potter book.”

“And you haven’t skipped to the end?”

“I may have skimmed …” 

“I can tell you how it ends. Offer still stands.”

“Why aren’t you encouraging me to break my old habits? To embrace the idea of experiencing life without spoiling it?”

He chuckles, gesturing for me to come over to him. I eye him carefully, then slide over so his arm is back over my shoulders. I lean against him, my head resting on his shoulder.

“I know you’re too stubborn to change, and I wouldn’t want you to. Plus, literature is an escape from reality. You can’t spoil your life, because you don’t have the control to. Might as well choose what to take control of.”

I think about what he says. 

“So you think I’m unchangeable?” I question quietly.

His hand brushes down my arm. “I don’t think that at all,” he promises. “I just think that when you set your mind to something, you refuse to let anyone discourage you. It’s not a bad thing.”

Jake used to the be one who told me that I was fine the way I was. Not perfect, because we know there’s no such thing as perfect. But not once has he questioned my motives enough to make him want to change me. 

I should be happy about that. I am happy about that.

Liar.

“I told Taylor I’d read the series with her without spoilers,” I finally tell him. “That means not spoiling it completely.”

“You said you already skimmed,” he reminds me, brushing his lips against the top of my head.

I lean into the sensation of his lips, trying to feel anything. A surge of emotion. A promise. The emotion that I felt with his touches before.

Before what?

I close my eyes, knowing the answer but not wanting to admit it aloud.

After the movie finishes, Jake leaves to see his mother at the diner. I go downstairs to greet Taylor as she gets off the school bus. She comes running over to me in her blue cheetah print leggings and yellow T-shirt. She was proud that she dressed herself, and I thought she did a good job. Although her rainbow shoes and mismatched socks were something I would have changed.

She’s stubborn, though, like me. 

“Sissy, look!” For the next thirty minutes, she tells me all about the picture she drew in school. It looks like a dis-formed fish, but she insists it’s a dog. Not only a dog, but the dog she wants us to get.

I want to tell her we’ll get one―make a promise to her that we’ll have everything we ever wanted―but I can’t, because breaking promises is something I refuse to do.

“We could get a kitty,” she says, biting into her pizza.

“Tay, we can’t get an animal. Not right now.”

“Why?”

“Because the building doesn’t allow pets,” I explain. It’s not the total truth, but not a lie either. 

For now, it’s the easiest way to explain.

“But why?”

I crack a smile at her inquiry. “Because pets can be messy, and we don’t own this place.”

“Why not?”

“Because …” I take a deep breath. “Just because. Now eat your pizza before it gets cold.”

“But it’s good cold.”

I put my slice down. “Taylor, please just eat your supper. Once you’re done, I’ll help you get ready for bed and then we’ll read.”

Her eyes light up. “Really?”

“Really.”

She nibbles on her pizza again. 

My cell buzzes on the table next to my plate. I peer down at it, thinking Jake’s name will greet me.

Unknown: Hey

I stare at the number, unsure of who it is. Thinking it’s a wrong number, I don’t bother replying. I busy myself putting the leftovers away in the fridge, and pouring myself another glass of water.

I come back to another text.

Unknown: I decided it wasn’t just up to you, Kay. And I won’t apologize for it, like you never apologized for what you said. 

Only one person would dare call me that, still knowing I hate it. 

Ian.

I stare at the three little bubbles wiggling at the bottom of the screen, knowing he’s typing something else. 

Taylor is humming to herself, picking pieces of pepperoni off her plate. 

I debate on answering him, my fingers tingling to type any message back. Instead, I shake myself out of temptation and watch Taylor finish her dinner.

Seeing her in her element―smile on her face, brown eyes twinkling―makes my heart constrict, like a rope is tied too tightly around it and somebody is pulling.

Not just somebody. Dad.

He’s the only person in the way of getting Taylor full-time, and no matter how many people tell me not to worry, I will. If Taylor isn’t with me, I can’t ensure she’s happy. What if Dad wants her and then chooses to ignore her after the feel-good moments or reuniting are over? I can’t be there to pick up the pieces.

He’s not Mom. 

I mentally flick the little voice off my shoulder, because its commentary isn’t needed. I wouldn’t know if Dad is like Mom, because I haven’t seen him. I haven’t tried looking him up. I haven’t even bothered asking around town about him to his old friends.

The temptation to try finding him at first was intense, like if I asked enough he’d come back. If not to stay, at least to visit. For me. For Taylor. For Mom. Mom is who needed him the most, and he broke every promise to her that he made.

His vows. His loyalty.

Maybe he is like Mom, just without the drug addiction. It’d be a shame if both my parents decided they liked the hard shit more than their kids. 

“What you doin, sissy?” Taylor asks, breaking me from my internal rampage.

I glance down at the torn-up napkin in my hands. A bad habit that I figured out I had years ago. If I don’t absentmindedly tear up something in my hands, I bite my nails. Mom used to scold me for it.

“You won’t look like the other girls if you do that, Kay. You have perfectly good nails, but you insist on ruining them. Why do you destroy them?”

Destruction isn’t the only thing she accused me of doing. Ironic, considering she’s the wrecking ball of the family.

I could blame Dad for his part in the madness, because maybe if he hadn’t left, she’d be fine. Her depression wouldn’t have gotten so bad that she needed medication. She would be happy for a change. 

But in reality, I had to accept that it wasn’t, and isn’t, his fault completely. Everything she’s done is her own fault. There’s no way I can change the things she said and the bridges she’s burnt, and I’m done trying to help the helpless.

Blaming Dad led to so much hate … so much doubt. 

Like somebody else you know.

I really want to smack my inner conscious, but damn if it didn’t have a point.

“Sorry, Tay,” I apologize, putting down what’s left of the napkin. “I was just thinking. Are you ready to get washed up and changed?”

“Then we read?”

“Then we read.”

She hops off her seat and runs into her bedroom. I can hear her going through her dresser for her pajamas, and I see articles of clothing flying everywhere. I know for a fact that, even after looking for something new, she’ll come out with the same Olaf pajama set she always wears. Ever since we watched Frozen for the first time a month ago, she’s wanted to watch it at least once a week. I know every word to every song in it, and she makes sure I sing along with her. 

But it’s not what gets me about the movie. It’s how she relates to the snowman.

“I wanna be Olaf when I’m older,” she tells me. 

“Why is that?”

“’Cause he offers warm hugs even though he’d melt, and I wanna love like that.”

The memory melts my heart every time I think of it. I worry that she’ll think she can’t love the way I’m sure I can’t, but she’s already proven to have the biggest heart of anybody I know.

I can’t help but look at the phone laying on the table, and something inside of me shoves my feet forward, and my hand out. Slipping into the bedroom, I hit the call button. 

“Didn’t think you’d answer the texts, much less call me,” he greets, his voice friendly.

“If I killed somebody, what would you do?” I blurt out, without so much as a second thought. 

My mind doesn’t think to say hello, or double check to make sure it’s Ian. I can hear it. The proof is in the text. Kay.

And as pointless as it may seem, I need to know the answer. 

There’s a long pause of silence between us, which I expect. It’s an odd question, after all. Part of me wonders if he’ll ask me if I’m crazy, or side step the question and move on to something else.

But, he doesn’t. 

“I suppose I’d help you get rid of the body.”

My lips spread into a wide smile, baring my teeth. Something as simple as this shouldn’t make me happy, shouldn’t clear any sort of confusion that my heart is drowning in, but it does.

He curses. “Kasey, is there a reason you’re asking? Are you in trouble? Do I need to come back, because I think I know somebody who can give me acid that will burn everything—”

“I didn’t murder anyone.” 

“Okay. That’s good to hear.”

There are certain things I could say now. That I was sorry. That I missed him. That I was an ass for treating him the way I did. But I see Taylor walking out of her bedroom in her pajamas—Olaf, as anticipated. She’s holding the book in her hand, ready for me to read to her.

So instead of continuing the conversation, I opt for, “Goodnight, Ian.”

His response is smooth, a promise for another conversation to come. “Goodnight, Kasey.”