Chapter Five
Hannah
When I get back to the office, I check my phone to see if the priest has called back. He hasn’t, so I put my phone on loud and place it on the desk next to me. I call the detective on the case through my landline and find out all the details surrounding Amanda’s death.
Aside from being nosy, I need as much information as I can gather for my case report. I know she doesn’t have much in the way of relatives, other than a grandmother suffering from dementia in a nursing home on the other side of the country. It’s sad to think she’s been left with nobody.
“Wish I could give you more, but from our side of things, it’s a pretty straightforward case,” the detective says. “He’s admitted to it and he wants to plead guilty, so we shouldn’t need anything from the girl, other than a statement.”
Even getting that is going to be hard. “Any luck finding a relative?” I ask, my voice hopeful. “I’d love to be able to avoid putting her into care. The poor girl has been through enough.”
“Other than the grandmother, no. The priest who came to collect her from us seemed like a good guy. He insisted on her staying with him until we got onto you. Maybe he knows someone? She was pretty worked up, but he managed to calm her down.”
“I’ll ask him if he ever gets back to me,” I mumble. “Thanks for all your help. If you think of anything else, let me know.”
Sighing, I hang up the phone, and then shoot an email through to my contact in the foster care placement department, asking that she get back to me with some short-term accommodation options. I want to do my best to make sure she’s placed with a good family, at least in the interim, until I can figure out a longer-term option.
I already feel like I’m failing her by not placing her with someone that she already knows. She’s been through so much that I was hoping to avoid the stress of new people. Not only has she lost her mum, but she’s also lost her home. It might not have been much, but to her it was all she had. Maybe the detective was right and the priest will know someone, but I don’t like my chances.
Longer term, I know the odds of finding a home for her are small. There’s a good chance she’ll end up in ongoing, short-term care, being shifted from family to family and eventually ending up in a group home until she’s eighteen. Statistically, she’ll then probably end up in and out of jail for the rest of her life. It sucks that I know all that, and I can’t do anything about it. Sometimes I wish I had a magic solution that would fix everything, but I don’t. I’m just one person trying to work a system that is working against me.
My phone vibrates on my desk. Distracted, I glance at it, not recognizing the number. “Hello?” I say. I balance it between my shoulder and ear and continue tapping away at my computer. “Hannah speaking.”
“Hi, Hannah,” a smooth, deep voice responds. “I got your message taped to the wall of my parish, and I’m just returning your call. I assume this is about Anna?”
“Right,” I reply. Finally. I glance at the clock. It’s only been three hours since I was there. “Thanks for calling me back. Sorry, I guess I should’ve called you first before coming down there earlier. How is she doing?”
“Not great. She’s pretty messed up. Between her being asleep, and waking up screaming from the nightmares, it’s been full on over here.”
I sigh and close my eyes, my heart breaking for her. Suddenly I’m nine, and sitting at the table opposite my mother and father, as they tell me Cecily was dead. It was the exact spot I sat, nearly a year later, when my mother told me my father was gone. It’s a feeling that never really leaves you, no matter how much time passes. It took me a long time until I was even able to look at that table after Cecily. After Dad … we had to sell it. It was just a stupid thing like a table, and I couldn’t stand to look at it.
“Poor thing. I wish I could do more to help he …” My voice trails off until I find my words again. “I should come and have a talk with her.” I glance at my phone. It’s nearly five, but I really need to get something sorted for her soon. “Maybe tonight, if that’s not too late for you?”
“Sure, that sounds good. I can meet you at the church and walk you down to the house?”
“Great,” I agree, relieved I’m finally getting somewhere. “I’ll see you then.”
After I end the call, I head to the breakroom and make myself a coffee. I feel like I’m going to need all the caffeine in the world today—even though it’s nearly over.
Max wanders in as I’m stirring the second sugar into my cup. He smirks at me and raises his eyebrows. Max and I have been friends since I started here two years ago. A year older than me, he’s one of my closest friends. His sense of humour is often just what I need to get through the hardest days, but I’m not in the mood for his games today.
“Shut it, Max,” I growl.
“I didn’t say a word,” he says, grabbing a cup from the cupboard. He didn’t need to. The laughter in his eyes says plenty. “But now that you mention it, hot date last night?” He knows better than anyone that my last date was more than six months ago. I should’ve known that while no one else noticed how late I was today, Max did.
“Seriously, today is not a good day,” I mumble, barely able to hold back the tears. I haven’t cried since my father’s funeral, and suddenly I’m an emotional wreck.
“Sorry, Han, I was just kidding,” he says gently, wrapping his arm around me. “Can I do anything? If you need to talk to someone, I’m here.” I smile and lean my head against his shoulder, enjoying his warmth. That is what I needed. My friend, the guy who is there for me no matter what.
“Just a difficult case, that’s all.” I’m so used to closing myself off that the thought of opening up to him and telling him the truth terrifies me.
“Aren’t they all difficult?”
“They are, but today’s worse,” I mumble. “I took a woman and her daughter from their home yesterday and set them up in a shelter, but the mother went back. Her boyfriend killed her while the little girl watched.”
“Shit, that’s rough,” he says, pulling me into his arms. He kisses my forehead. “Is the little girl okay?”
I shrug. “As well as she can be, I guess. She just witnessed a man she knew as her father, murdering her mother. I mean, how well can you really be after that?” I say, my voice shaking. “I just feel so helpless. And I keep going over it in my head and asking myself what more I could’ve done.”
“And you’re thinking about your family?” he asks gently. He touches my face, offering me a smile. I reach up and squeeze his hand.
“You know me so well.”
“I know that you take everything so personally, which is why you’re so amazing at what you do. I know that all you want to do is help people, and I know when you feel like you haven’t helped, it breaks you. It tears you apart. But you can’t let it, Hannah. Because there are plenty of other kids that need you too. This little girl still needs you.”
And once again, Max has told me everything I needed to hear. As much as he loves to joke around, he can also be the sweetest, kindest person in the world. I take a deep breath and force myself to be stronger, for Anna’s sake. I can’t let anything get in the way of doing what’s best for that little girl.
“Thanks,” I say. I throw my arms around him with renewed determination. “I really needed to hear that.”
“That’s why I’m here, remember?” he says with a lopsided grin. “What use is a best friend if he can’t offer support when you need it most?”
I laugh and wrap my arms around him again. I swear if he wasn’t gay, we’d be married.
“And while I have you, Marcus wanted me to invite you over for dinner again.” He narrows his blue green eyes. “You’re not trying to steal my boyfriend, are you?”
I laugh, because I love Marcus to death, and if I actually thought I had a chance with him, I probably would try and steal him. But something tells me he’s not that into girls.
“Trust me, Marcus is safe. I don’t think he’s going anywhere for a while,” I chuckle. “I mean, have you seen the way he looks at you?” I add with a giggle. “I’d love to come to dinner. Tell me when and I’m there.”
I make my way back to the church. I’m nervous about seeing Anna again, but at least the drive gives me time to think and clear my head. I pull into the parking lot next to the same Toyota as before. There are no other cars, so I wonder if it’s the priest’s, and if so, where was he before? I slam my door shut and walk back up the path toward the church entrance.
Walking inside is like déjà vu, complete with the dead silence and no sign of anyone.
Sighing, I walk up to the front and call out, but there’s no answer. Seriously? Again? I’m starting to think someone is messing with me. I plunk myself down on the top step of the platform, irritable that my time is being wasted yet again. He could’ve at least texted me that he was running late. I have so much to organize it’s not even funny. Every second is precious in my line of work.
Half an hour later it’s almost six. I’m about to leave when I finally hear some action on the other side of the door. I straighten up, and smooth over the back of my skirt, trying to improve my foul mood. I probably shouldn’t be angry at a priest. Who knows when that would come back to bite me.
The door swings open. My eyes widen as I watch the priest hurry down the aisle in my direction. He’s tall and athletic and very attractive, with his chiselled jaw and the dark brown eyes. His tall, athletic body moves effortlessly with every step, and the black pants and button-up shirt set off his tanned complexion perfectly.
“I’m so sorry I’m late, Hannah,” he says when he reaches me. His expression is apologetic, and my heart instantly melts. How can I stay mad at him? “Annabelle really isn’t doing too well and I didn’t want to leave her until I knew she was going to be okay without me there.” My annoyance evaporates immediately. Could he be any more thoughtful and caring?
“It’s fine, seriously. I was running late myself. I just got here,” I fib. I feel bad about lying in a church, even if it is to make a priest feel better.
“Oh, good,” he says, running his hand through his hair. His thick, dark, luscious hair. Stop it, I chastise myself. He’s a priest and you’re here because a little girl’s mother was killed by her father. Get a goddammed grip.
“I’m Hannah,” I say, and then blush, because he already knows that.
I put out my hand and he takes it firmly in his. I try to ignore the rush that jolts through me as his hand touches mine, but it’s impossible. I’m not used to reacting this way over any guy, let alone someone so off limits, but then I’m not usually so blatantly attracted to people. I study him again. There is something so comforting about him, almost like he’s familiar. I’ve seen him before, I’m sure of it, but I can’t work out where. At the office maybe? I imagine he’d have been involved in a few cases like this. That must be it.
“Nice to meet you, Hannah.” His eyes cloud over as he studies me, but then the look is gone nearly as fast as it appears. He nods at me to walk with him, and I do, forgetting that he hasn’t introduced himself.
“Where is she?” I ask.
“Down at the house, watching a movie. As I said, Anna is not handling things very well. She had constant nightmares since yesterday and when she’s awake, she clings to me, like she’s terrified of being left alone. She’s in shock, I guess, but she wouldn’t even let the doctor near her.”
“Poor kid,” I mumble. I know that getting her the appropriate care and counselling is the best thing I can do for now, but I wish there was more I could do. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so helpless. I shake off the guilt that’s driving those thoughts. I will deal with that later.
“So,” he asks as we trek toward the house. “How long have you been doing this?”
“Child protection?” I ask. “Two years this August,” I say with a small smile. He smells so good. I mentally slap myself. Just stop it.
“Wow, that’s impressive, for CP,” he says with a low whistle. “I figured you were an old hand, considering how well you’re handling this.”
“Trust me, it’s all for show,” I say with a sad smile.
We reach the front door and our conversation stops. I follow him inside, my heart racing. I have no idea what state she’s going to be in or if she blames me as much as I blame myself. I follow the sounds of Frozen playing on the TV. We walk into the lounge room. I glance over at Anna, who sits on the couch, staring into her lap. I walk over to her and crouch down, so I’m at her eye level.
“Hi, Anna, remember me?” I say softly. She tenses, but doesn’t move. He’s right. She is in shock, not that I blame her. I stay crouched next to her for a few minutes, but she refuses eye contact and inches away from me. I try again anyway, knowing it’s not going to work. “I’m going to look after you. It might not feel like it right now, but things will be okay.”
Standing up, I walk back over to where … I shake my head. I still don’t even know his name. Do I call him Father? Sir? I smother a laugh, even though I don’t find it funny at all.
“I’m not sure what to do,” he says, interrupting my thoughts. “She’s usually so full of life and won’t stop talking. She’s a real live wire, but she’s barely said a word to me since she got here.”
“How well do you know her?” I ask. My question seems to catch him off guard, but I put it down to the severity of the situation. We are all on edge. Or at least, I know I am.
“Amanda … Her mother, came to see me a few times not too long ago. I could see she was struggling, so I offered my help. Last week she came to me and asked if she could leave Anna here. I said yes, because I got the feeling she felt that they weren’t safe at home. She left her here for three days.”
“And you didn’t think to call the police or CP?” I ask, bewildered.
“I thought I was doing the right thing by Amanda.” His eyes darken, his defences kicking in at my question.
“And what about the right thing by Anna?” I ask. I regret the question right away, but it’s too late to take back. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” I think I’m trying to take my guilt out on him, because if someone else could’ve helped then I will feel less to blame.
“No, you shouldn’t have,” he replies with a frown.
“How did you come to know what had happened?” I ask, determined to move the conversation on. I’m embarrassed that I just accused a priest of not having her best interests at heart.
He looks at me strangely. “I found them.”
Wow. The detective had left that part out. I shudder. I can’t even imagine what that would’ve been like to walk in on, but it explained Anna’s clinginess toward him.
He nods. “She was here at the church last week, with Anna. She said she didn’t feel safe but couldn’t get away from her boyfriend. She was afraid he was going to hurt her.” He shakes his head again, with the same look in his eyes that I see every time I look in the mirror. “I was worried that I hadn’t seen her, so I went looking for her, and found …” He shakes his head. I reach my hand out and touch his arm.
“You can’t do that,” I say softly, repeating the words Max said to me only hours earlier. “Trust me, I’ve done it to myself plenty of times. I’ve gone over the what if’s in my head over and over; but the thing is, you don’t know how things would’ve panned out. You could only help her if she wanted it. If she wasn’t ready to accept change, then there is nothing you could’ve done.”
“I know all of that, but it doesn’t make it any easier.” he says, his expression pained. “So, where to from here? What will happen to Anna? She won’t let anyone other than me even near her.”
“She has no relatives.” I hate saying the words as much as he hates hearing them. He flinches, but nods. “I’ll get her into short-term foster care until I can find a longer-term solution.”
“And how long will that take? To find somewhere permanent?” he presses. I shrug, knowing it can vary, depending on how under pressure the department is. “I can’t answer that. An infant would be easy to place, but …” My voice trails off. I glance over at Anna, not wanting to say anything in front of her.
“Can she stay with me until you figure this out?” he asks.
“Here?” I ask, bewildered. I know he’s worried about Anna, but I wasn’t expecting him to suggest that. I look around. The place is more like a shack than a house. And it’s far from child friendly. He chuckles, rubbing his jawline.
“Not here. This is the part of the old seminary from years ago. We use it as more of a community house these days. Believe it or not, I do get to have my own place,” he teases. I blush for being so presumptuous. “I’m sure I could get some time off work, and my house is pretty child friendly already. I have a sister with a child that stays over often.”
“We can definitely look into it,” I say, impressed with his dedication. Is there anything this man doesn’t do? I blush, remembering the obvious answer to that question. “I’ll have to come past and see your house.” I shiver. Why does that excite me? I push the thought from my mind and focus on the task at hand, which is not him.
“Sure, you’re welcome anytime,” he says with a shrug.
“Okay, great.” I smile, happy this is turning out to be easier than I thought it would be. “Well, considering how urgent this is, I’d like to get onto it as soon as possible.”
“I can have Anthony keep an eye on Anna if you have time now?” he suggests. “Anthony is the other priest here,” he adds, when I look confused.
“Sounds good.” I nod, pressing my palms together. The sooner I see his place, the faster I can get the paperwork happening to make it official.
“You can either follow me or come in my car,” he says. “I’m only about ten minutes up the road, so you would have to come back this way anyway.”
“Sure. Makes sense to go with you,” I say. My heart flutters at the thought of going anywhere with him.