Chapter 7
Lauren was already seated when we entered the hearing room.
She wore a pale sweater I recognized from the morning Emma was born. I had once thought of it as the one she wore when she became an aunt.
I took James's hand and sat beside Ms. Rivera.
Mom and Dad sat behind us, several seats apart. Frank was there too.
Lauren looked at Emma's empty stroller, then at me. We had left Emma with a trusted friend. Lauren didn't know where.
The hearing was brief, but every minute felt long.
Ms. Rivera presented the messages, the copied key, the daycare form, and the letter to Denise Harper. She explained that the police investigation was ongoing and that we were asking for distance while it continued.
Lauren's attorney said her client had made mistakes while trying to help a young mother. He said Lauren had never removed Emma from our care.
That much was true.
I was grateful we had found out before she could try.
When it was Lauren's turn, she said she loved Emma.
“I spent more time with her than anyone while James was gone,” she told the judge. “I was worried Claire couldn't manage.”
I felt heat climb my face. I kept my hands flat on the table.
The judge asked whether I wanted to speak.
“Yes.”
I stood.
“I called my family for help when I was tired,” I said. “I never gave my sister permission to pretend Emma was hers. I never signed the form. On Christmas Day, I saw her hit my daughter. I want Emma to grow up knowing I will protect her, even when the person I have to protect her from is my sister.”
My voice shook on the last word. I finished anyway.
Lauren looked down.
The judge issued a temporary order barring Lauren from contacting or approaching us, subject to a later review. She also told us to report any breach.
Outside the room, Mom came toward me.
“I should have stopped her sooner,” she said.
I was too tired to argue.
“Yes, you should have.”
“I gave them every message. Some of them make me look terrible.”
“They show what happened.”
Mom nodded.
She looked at the empty stroller.
“I miss Emma.”
“I know.”
“Would you ever let me see her again?”
“That's something James and I will decide when we trust that you understand our rules.”
Mom accepted the answer. It was the first time she hadn't pushed me for more.
Dad walked us to the car. He did not ask to visit.
For several days, Lauren stayed away. I slept longer than I had since Christmas. I still woke to check Emma, but I could settle after I saw her breathing peacefully.
James returned to work for a short stretch. He called at lunch to hear Emma babble. Each evening, he came home and took her while I made dinner or sat quietly for half an hour.
We were learning what ordinary life together felt like.
Then Ms. Patel called.
“Lauren came to Bright Steps today,” she said. “She asked whether you'd enrolled Emma under another name.”
My chest tightened.
“We haven't enrolled her anywhere.”
“I didn't tell her anything. She left when I said I couldn't discuss any child with her.”
I contacted the investigator and Ms. Rivera. The daycare had video of Lauren entering and leaving. We sent them the details.
James came home early. We kept Emma inside that evening, though the weather had finally turned warm enough for a walk.
“I hate that she's making us afraid to leave the house,” I said.
“We can go tomorrow,” James said. “Together.”
I wanted to believe tomorrow could belong to us.
The next morning, a car pulled up while I was fastening Emma into her stroller. My hands froze on the buckle.
It was Mom.
She stayed inside the car and called my phone.
“I know you didn't invite me,” she said. “I came to leave something in your mailbox. I should have called first.”
I looked at the car, then at the mailbox. She had not approached the house.
“What is it?”
“A letter. You can read it whenever you want.”
“You need to leave now.”
“I will.”
She drove away.
I opened the mailbox after James came outside. The envelope held a handwritten apology. Mom named the key, the lies she had repeated, and her failure to protect Emma at dinner. She didn't ask to visit. She said she would respect whatever we decided.
May you like
At the bottom, she had written one more sentence.
Lauren told me yesterday that she still thinks Emma belongs with her.
