almost fourteen. My room shared a wall with Whitney’s nursery. But we were being quiet. He barged into my room, not knocking—he didn’t know if we were changing. I mean, I had a teenage girl over at my house. What if he walked in on us changing into pjs?” Her voice breaks, and when her eyes twitch, she’s reliving this memory, and with tears filling them, it’s not a happy one.
“Anyway, he barges in, sees we’re playing Monopoly, and stomps over, kicks the board with his foot, one of the hotels hitting my friend in the eye. It left a scratch underneath, and she called her mom to come get her. Becca wasn’t allowed to come to my house again. Dennis woke up the whole house, including Whitney, which ironically, was his reason for getting so upset.”
Knox is on his feet with his hands wrapped around her shoulders. I’m sitting next to her, and lace her fingers into mine.
“I mean,” she continues, “I can go on with story after story about that sort of shit. If it wasn’t the way I raked leaves, it was the way I stacked the dishes or didn’t make my bed with military folds in them. The son of a bitch wasn’t even in the military, either. I mean, there was so much off with him. He saw my mother as a meal ticket. My mom, like most women, thought of him as good looking. But I only saw evil.”
Her voice hitches, and I’m left to wonder what other stories of hell she could share with us. I’m sure it could go on all night.
“I don’t know why I didn’t try to get Whit from the beginning. I had the money. Mom left me enough for that, and honestly, to live on. But I haven’t touched it. I’d rather my mom be here than to have it. I wanted to prove to myself that I could support the two of us, without using her for her money like Dennis had.”
We wait for more. And my heart breaks for her because in the way her eyes widen and she swallows hard, she’s reliving hell. A hell that I know Knox and I will shield her from because she’s worth it to us.
We couldn’t sway Ave to stay with us, and honestly, I don’t want to worry about it being a work night the first time with her. We’ll treasure her when we can finally take her.
Pulling back the comforter together, I crawl into bed at the same time as Knox. “Didn’t that break your heart to watch Ave like that?” Knox asks.
A part of me doesn’t show emotion or empathy for those who are suffering. However, with Ave and Knox, it physically hurts to see them in pain.
“Yeah, it was hell, honestly. And I don’t know how to help her.”
I never know how to help those I love. In my mind, it’s something practical, but I’ve learned through my life with Knox that sometimes all I can do is sit back and watch. It’s honestly the worst part.
17
Avery
All week, phone calls to Cassie Amund, our social worker, go to voice mail. I’ve called the main office with no avail or resolution. In my mind, I keep telling myself no news is good news. I’ve thrown all my frustration into my new design, and I dare say, it’s amazing.
I’m deep into the final designs for the presentation of my new line. The unfamiliar ring tone pulls me out of my deep concentration. I have everyone who calls me programmed, but with the custody hearing next week, I answer the phone in case it’s a last-minute inspection.
“Hello, this is Avery Chapel.”
A feminine voice greets me after she clears her throat. “Hi, Ms. Chapel, I’m Leah Johnson. I’m a social worker on the same team as your current caseworker, Cassie Amund.” I pause, wondering how this affects me and the hearing next week.
“Oh, good. I’ve tried to reach Cassie for a while now and haven’t heard from her.”
“Um, yeah, I’m really sorry to do this to you, especially so close to the hearing, but I’m taking over for Cassie. She’s had a death in the family and has taken a leave of absence. We’ve been scrambling to take over her case files.”
My heart hurts for Cassie because she’s one of the sweetest ladies I’ve ever met. But in all of this, my concern is for Whitney. Her father is so wishy-washy, so don’t I want him to be able