alternative home when the kids had attempted to run away together. The little girl’s foster family went so far as to file a petition for adoption, but the judge denied it. The boy was another story. He bounced around to several other foster homes until their mother was granted her rights back a second time, after eighteen months.
Why would the courts side with this woman and not with so many others who had worked to clean up their life? Why did she deserve her kids more than someone who had gotten their life back on track? The logical answer would be that she didn’t, but the decision was clear in black and white on the screen in front of me. The courts said she did. If these kids are the same as my new case, I can only imagine what level of hell they’ve been through over the years.
Trying to put that notion out of my mind and focus on the kids, I work a few more hours until Eric walks into my office and settles into one of the chairs across from my desk. “Good morning, Grace.”
“Eric,” I return.
“Got your email. What have you found so far?” I turn my computer screen to show him the two case files I had found in the system. Reading them, he shakes his head. “I remember this case. One of your predecessors, I believe. The mother was a real piece of work. The whole office was shocked when they gave her her rights back. Happens far too often in cases like this.”
“I’d be inclined to agree with you, sir.”
“Where are you at with the school?”
“Just waiting for them to open.” Shifting my eyes to the clock on my computer screen, I see it’s twenty past nine. I quickly reach for my phone as Eric pushes himself out of the chair.
“Keep me posted,” he remarks over his shoulder as he leaves me to the call.
“Here goes nothing,” I mutter as I dial the number I’d found on Google for the school. Someone picks up almost immediately.
“Lake Travis Secondary School,” a cheerful voice answers.
“Yes, my name is Grace Halfpenny, and I’m a caseworker with the Texas Department of Family and Protective Services. I’m calling because our office has been made aware of a situation involving two students, a boy and a girl who were enrolled into your school last week.” Pulling my notepad out from underneath a stack of papers, I place it in front of me. “Kevin and Natalie Tucker.”
“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but I can’t release any information about our students. It’s against policy.”
“Maybe you didn’t hear me. I’m calling from—”
“It doesn’t change the answer,” she fires back.
I stifle my frustration as I try to remain professional. “Is there someone else I can speak with? A principal or superintendent, perhaps?” She remains silent, so I continue. “I understand you may not get calls like this all that often, but I’m investigating a report we received about two students enrolled in your school. You can either allow me to speak to someone who can verify the information I require, or I’ll request law enforcement to collect it for me.” My voice wavers as my professionalism cracks.
“Can you hold just a second?”
“Sure.” The phone line clicks over to soft jazz music in the background. It plays for a few minutes before the line clicks back over.
A new voice comes onto the line. “Miss Halfpenny? My name is Melanie Pyle, and I’m the superintendent for the school. My secretary, a new hire, has informed me of your request. How can we help you?”
I repeat my earlier request.
“Yes, of course,” she answers matter-of-factly. “Can I please have the names of the students?”
“Kevin and Natalie Tucker.”
“Ah, yes. The principal of their school contacted me about the peculiarities of their enrollment. I assume that’s the reason for your call?”
“That’s correct. I’d like to meet with them to conduct my investigation. Will that be a problem?”
“Let me check our attendance roll.” I hear the clicks of a keyboard in the background as she types. “It looks like we have marked Natalie absent today. Let me pull up the notes.” Her keyboard clicks a few more times before she sighs. “It says illness.”
“And Kevin?”
“He’s also marked as absent for illness. Unfortunately, there’s been a case of the first week flu, as we like to call it, hitting several of our grades. We have twenty percent of our student body out today.”
“I see.” If they aren’t there, I can’t identify or match