temporary,” Mrs. Linder said. “The war is to blame for a great deal of our overcrowding and increased workload.”
Garrett frowned. “How so?”
“For one thing, the number of neglected and abused children has risen greatly. With the men away, the mothers are finding it difficult to cope. Most are taking some sort of work to bring in money while still fulfilling all the usual duties at home. We also have fewer volunteers to help with the workload as well as fewer foster families willing to take in extra mouths to feed. Everyone is focused on their own problems, striving to keep their families afloat. Understandable, but unfortunate.” She paused at the foot of the staircase. “I imagine the economic upheaval from the war is also part of the reason why the expansion plans have been put on hold. In such uncertain times, it seems unwise to invest in real estate.”
Garrett nodded, impressed by her perceptive views. “You’re probably right. No one thought this war would last so long, and now it seems never-ending.”
“I know.” Sadness washed over her features. “It seems like forever since I’ve seen my brother.”
Garrett discreetly rubbed a hand over his chest, attempting to quell his guilt over the fact that he wasn’t still overseas with his fellow comrades. If fate hadn’t intervened, he might be fighting alongside Mrs. Linder’s brother at this very moment.
Jane attempted to shake off the feeling of melancholy that talk of the war always evoked. From Mr. Wilder’s grim expression, she imagined he felt the same. However, now was not the time to focus on anything other than work.
They stopped outside Jane’s office.
“Could you clarify something for me, Mrs. Linder?” Mr. Wilder flipped the page on his notepad. “I understand Mr. Mills reorganized the agency into three separate areas: the shelter, the child placement department, and the family protection department.”
“That’s right.”
“What exactly does the family protection unit do?”
Jane leaned against the doorframe, affection for her mentor softening her mood for the moment. “Mr. Mills was passionate about preventing cruelty to and neglect of children. We receive countless calls about parents abusing their children or simply neglecting them, leaving them without proper food and clothing. We investigate every claim and determine whether it’s safe to leave the child in the home or better to remove them to foster care. We also do regular inspections of our foster homes to ensure the parents are living up to their promise to care for the children entrusted to them.”
Mr. Wilder scratched his chin. “This is a more complex organization than I realized. My estimated time for a complete study may have been somewhat optimistic.”
Just then, the front door of the agency burst open, claiming Jane’s immediate attention. A stout woman entered, dragging a scowling boy with her.
Jane recognized the child and immediately rushed toward them. “Martin. Mrs. McElroy. What can I do for you?”
The woman propelled the boy forward. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Linder, but I’m afraid I have to return Martin to the shelter. Mr. McElroy and I can no longer tolerate his shenanigans.”
Jane’s stomach sank, along with her hopes for the boy. She’d prayed the McElroys would turn out to be Martin’s permanent home. What had gone wrong this time?
The boy crossed his arms in front of him, his mouth curved down in a permanent scowl.
Conscious of the people in the waiting room nearby and of Mr. Wilder hovering behind her, Jane made a quick decision. “Martin, I’d like you to go with Mr. Wilder here. He’ll take you to the staff room while I talk to your . . . to Mrs. McElroy.” She lowered her voice and leaned toward Mr. Wilder. “The staff room’s down the back hall. There’s a cookie jar on the counter and drinks in the refrigerator.”
If he was surprised, he hid it well. He simply nodded and waited for Martin.
As the boy stalked by her, Jane resisted the urge to lay a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Mrs. McElroy, won’t you come into my office and we can discuss the situation?”
“There’s no point.” Mrs. McElroy’s shrill voice echoed through the hall. “I’m leaving the boy here and no discussion is going to change my mind.”
Jane stiffened and summoned her sternest demeanor. “Ma’am, you have a responsibility to this child. You signed papers that say so.”
“You can just tear up those papers.” She glanced at the wall clock. “I have to go. I need to get back before school lets out and the rest of the young’uns arrive home.”
Jane followed her