When I refused, child services began receiving complaints — that I left Vicky alone, barely fed her, frightened her with my temper. Every lie brought another inspection.
And every weekend Denise took Vicky, she came home in tears.
« They get mad because I won’t call them Mommy and Daddy, » she whispered.
Then one afternoon I arrived early, my bike tire flat, and crouched under their open window to patch it.
« The sooner we get guardianship and ship that girl off to boarding school, the better, » Denise snapped. « All she does is cry for my sister. I’m sick of it. »
« Just hold on, dear, » Howard replied. « Think about all the money. Once it’s ours, we’ll never have to work another day. »
My hands were trembling.
The next day was the final hearing.
Denise arrived dressed to the nines. « Let’s settle this quickly. My daughter, Vicky, and I have a busy day. »
But there was one thing Denise didn’t know.
