My Stepmother…

I nodded.

“My name is Vanessa Cole. I’m Mr. Ashford’s attorney. I’m also a court-appointed advocate in several child welfare cases. Mr. Ashford asked me to tell you that you are under no obligation to trust anyone just because he does. But I wanted to introduce myself and let you know we are prepared to support whatever Child Protective Services and the court determine is in your best interest.”

It was a lot of words.

The meaning underneath them was simple.

I had backup now.

That scared me almost as much as it comforted me. Hope can feel dangerous when you have lived too long without it.

“What happens to me?” I asked.

Vanessa’s expression softened just a fraction.

“Tonight? You rest. Tomorrow, the state will petition for emergency protective custody. Given the circumstances, your stepmother will not be retaining access to you. We’ll also pursue criminal charges if the evidence supports them.”

“If?”

She held my gaze. “I prefer winning to talking.”

For the first time in months, I almost smiled.

Almost.

I went into labor that night.

It started as pressure low in my back, different from the ordinary ache I’d had for weeks. Then the pressure became pain, sharp and regular, tightening all the way around my stomach until I gasped.

Nurses flooded the room.

Dr. Patel checked me, muttered something to another doctor, and suddenly my bed was moving.

“Your body is under severe strain,” she said, walking beside me as they rushed me down a bright hallway. “We’re going to take good care of you. Stay with me, Lily.”

Lily.

The name sounded strange, coming from someone who did not spit it.

I had told it to Dana eventually. Lily Carter. Thirteen years old. Lives—lived—in Macon County.

My water broke just outside the delivery room.

I started crying from shock more than pain.

“I can’t,” I said. “I can’t do this. I can’t.”

“You are doing it,” Dr. Patel said firmly. “And you are not alone.”

Because I was a minor and because my legal situation was a mess, the hospital asked who I wanted with me until CPS finalized temporary decisions.

I said Wesley.

I don’t know why I said it so fast.

Maybe because everyone else in the world had already failed me.

Maybe because he looked like the kind of man who knew how to stand still in a crisis.