Dangerously Mine

Six

The house felt wrong after Flavian fell asleep.

Not quiet in a comforting way. Just hollow like something bad had already happened and the walls were waiting for me to notice.

Tiffany Farrow’s card sat on the kitchen counter, bright and accusing, I shoved it into a drawer like that could erase it.

I’d already done laundry, cleaned the fridge, vacuumed twice. My body was exhausted but my mind refused to shut up.

So I opened a bottle of red wine.

If fear wouldn’t knock me out, maybe Merlot would..

My mind drifted back to the week I found out I was pregnant.

Grandma had made anchovy salad. I’d barely smelled it before I was in the bathroom throwing up. They rushed me to the ER. The doctor came back pale, holding my folder like it might explode.

pregnant.

Grandma cried. Grandpa didn’t yell which was somehow worse. He just kept asking how I could be so careless, how my life would be ruined before it even started.

I didn’t understand any of it and despite their attempts to make me do the ''right thing'' by giving him away i was never fully convinced. i was'nt sure i was going to keep him.

Not until the day the midwife placed a screaming, blood-covered baby on my chest and i cradled him in my arms.

One look and i could'nt let him go.

And now strangers with clipboards got to decide if I deserved him.

The thought made my chest ache.

I walked to his room.

He was sprawled across the bed, one arm flung over his head, soft snores rising and falling. His night light painted his face gold. Innocent and Unaware that the world had started circling him like prey.

I closed the door quietly.

Back in my room, I opened my laptop and made the mistake of searching CPS procedures again. Same words. Same sterile language.

Assessment. Observation. Determination of risk.

I worked in criminal law. I knew what investigations looked like.

I was one now.

Thank God for Luna. She’d hired a temp so I wouldn’t drown at work cause the trial approaching was really spreading us all thin.

The clock read 11:52 p.m when i finally decided to try and get some sleep.

I finished the wine and headed upstairs, hoping sleep would finally take pity on me.

Then came a knock.

Sharp and Echoing.

My blood ran cold.

A burglar wouldn’t knock and my lack of many friends ensured that no one came around often not especially at this time.

I stepped toward the door slowly. “Who is it?”

The voice on the other side hit me, one i could recognize even in my sleep.

“Fiona. Open the door.”

I froze. please let me be wrong i prayed silently.

I unlocked the door anyway.

Standing on my porch under the yellow light was Mrs. Gabrielle Carlisle.

My grandmother.

And the look on her face told me she already knew everything.