CHAPTER 12 : TUESDAY 10:AM
1237 Words
I didn’t sleep Monday night.
Not one second.
I kept checking the time. 11:43pm. 1:02am. 3:17am. That stupid time again. The time they took him.
My stomach was in knots. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I tried to eat toast and it tasted like paper.
Tuesday.
Visitation day.
The lawyer said "facility" but wouldn’t tell me where. Just "arrive 9:45am. Bring ID. No phones."
I ironed Liam’s spare dinosaur pajamas three times. Like he was coming home today. Like if I looked presentable, they’d give him back.
Stupid.
At 8am I was already at the bus stop. I had no money for a cab. Damian offered yesterday. I said no.
Pride? Or fear? I don’t know.
The bus smelled like rain and old seats. I sat by the window and watched Kampala go by. People going to work. Moms with kids. Normal life.
I used to be normal.
9:40am. I was standing in front of a grey building. No sign. Just a number. Two guards outside.
My legs felt like jelly.
"Name?"
"Lila... Lila Mutesi."
"Purpose?"
"Visitation. For Liam Mutesi."
The guard looked at a clipboard. Then at me. Then back.
"Room 4. 30 minutes."
30 minutes.
That was it?
####
The room was small. White walls. One table. Two plastic chairs. A toy box in the corner but it was locked.
And then the door on the other side opened.
"Lila?"
I turned so fast I almost fell.
A woman in scrubs was holding his hand.
Liam.
My Liam.
He was smaller. Or I was bigger. I don’t know. His hair was messy. His eyes were red. And he was wearing the dinosaur pajamas. The ones I packed.
"Mama!"
That was all it took.
I was on my knees before I even thought about it. Arms open. And he ran. He actually ran.
"Mama mama" he kept saying into my neck. His little arms were so tight around me I couldn’t breathe.
"Hey baby. Hey. I’m here. I’m right here." I was crying. He was crying. The woman was looking at her watch.
30 minutes.
"Did you miss me?" I pulled back to look at him. His cheeks were thinner. "Did you eat?"
"They gave me cereal." He sniffled. "I don’t like it."
"I know. I know baby." I brushed his hair. "I brought you something."
I pulled out a drawing. From my bag. Crumpled.
It was us. Stick figures. Me and him and a big sun.
"I made it for you."
He grabbed it and hugged it to his chest.
"Can we go home now?"
And that’s when my heart broke again.
"Not yet baby. Soon. I promise. Soon."
"But you promised last time too."
God.
The woman cleared her throat. "10 minutes left."
I wanted to scream.
Instead I asked him questions. About the food. About the other kids. About if he slept.
He said a boy named Toby snores. He said he misses his dinosaur. The blue one. Not the green one in his bag.
I memorized everything.
At 9:58 the woman stood up.
"Time’s up."
"No," I whispered. "Please. 2 more minutes?"
"Rules are rules."
Liam started crying again. Clinging to my shirt.
"I don’t wanna go! Mama don’t let them!"
"I’m not!" I was crying too now. "I’m not letting them baby I swear—"
Two guards came in. They didn’t touch him rough. But they took him.
And he was looking at me over his shoulder the whole time.
"Mama! MAMA!"
Then the door closed.
I stayed on the floor.
####
I don’t remember leaving the building.
I remember sitting on the curb outside and not being able to stand.
My phone buzzed.
Damian.
I ignored it. Three times.
On the fourth, I answered.
"What."
"Lila. Are you okay?"
"Was that 30 minutes to you?" I laughed. It sounded wrong. "That was nothing. That was cruel."
"I know." His voice was quiet. "Where are you?"
"Don’t."
"I’m coming."
"I said DON’T!"
I hung up.
I walked home. 2 hours. In the rain that started at noon.
When I got to my apartment, there was a bag on the door.
Inside: Liam’s blue dinosaur. Clean. And a note.
`I asked. They said yes. He wanted you to have it.
I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I was in court.
-D`
Court.
Right.
####
That night I couldn’t look at the dinosaur. I put it on his bed.
And I wrote.
Because what else was I going to do?
I wrote 4000 words. Lila fighting. Lila screaming. Lila not giving up.
At 2am my door knocked. Soft.
I knew who it was.
Damian.
He was soaked. Hair dripping. Suit ruined.
"I wasn’t in court," he said first thing. "I lied. I was outside the facility. The whole time."
"Why?"
"Because I couldn’t go in. Because I’m the reason he’s there." He stepped in without asking. "And because I knew you’d break."
I stared at him.
"You were there?"
"In the car. Across the street."
30 minutes. He watched me break for 30 minutes and did nothing?
"Get out."
"Lila—"
"GET OUT!"
He didn’t.
Instead he did something worse. He pulled me into a hug.
I fought. I hit his chest. "Let me go!"
"No."
"LET GO!"
"No."
And then I stopped. Because I was tired. Because I missed being held. Because I was so, so tired.
We stood there. Wet. Shaking.
His heart was pounding against mine.
"I saw him too," Damian whispered into my hair. "For 10 seconds. Through the window. Before they took him out."
"Don’t."
"He asked for you. He asked for mama."
I sobbed. Right there.
Damian didn’t say sorry. He just held me.
####
At 4am he left.
He left food on the counter. Real food. Not takeout.
He left money. I threw it in the trash.
He left another note.
`Richard was denied. Judge said no contact.
We have 26 days left.
I’m going to win this. For him. For you.
Please eat.
-D`
26 days.
####
Wednesday I went back to work.
_The Secrets in the East Wing_ got 200 more reads overnight. Someone commented: "update pls I’m dying".
I laughed for the first time in days.
I answered every comment. I posted in my author group. "My book got contract eligible!!"
People were happy for me.
And I felt guilty for being happy.
Thursday Richard’s lawyer called.
"Mr. Hartley would like to offer a settlement."
"No."
"He’s willing to pay 20k."
"Hang up."
Friday I got an email from Stary.
`Contract review in progress. Please prepare banking details.`
Banking details.
Money.
Real money.
That could pay for a lawyer. That could help me get Liam back faster.
I stared at the email for an hour.
####
It’s Saturday now.
Day 6.
20 days left.
I’m sitting on Liam’s bed with his dinosaur.
Damian texted: `Can I take you to see a lawyer Monday? Pro bono. She’s good.`
I haven’t answered.
Part of me wants to say yes.
Part of me wants to block him forever.
Because how do you forgive someone who stood in the hallway while your son was taken?
But how do you hate the only person fighting with you?
I don’t know.
All I know is Tuesday is too far away.
And I’m not waiting quietly.
I’m writing.
I’m fighting.
I’m a desperate heroine.
And I’m getting my son back.
Even if it kills me.
END OF CHAPTER 12
- Writer
