Chapter 8
She knocked at nine on the dot on Tuesday morning. I heard it from the kitchen where I was trying to get Lily's hair into a ponytail the way Mom used to do it.
Charles had told us the night before that he called the county himself. He sat us down at the table after Arthur left and said he wasn't going to wait for someone else to decide if we could stay. He said if we were going to live here, we were going to do it right, with papers, so no one could come take us in the middle of the night. I didn't say anything. Lily asked if that meant we were in trouble. Grace just held tighter to Charles's sleeve.
I opened the door before he could get up. The woman on the porch was younger than I expected, maybe thirty, with dark hair pulled back and a navy blue polo shirt that said COUNTY FAMILY SERVICES on it. She had a canvas tote bag and a clipboard, and her shoes were flat and practical for our front steps.
"You must be Sophie," she said, and her voice was quiet, not loud like I thought it would be.
Charles came up behind me, wiping his hands on a dish towel. "Ms. Ramirez? Thanks for coming out so quickly."
"Of course, Mr. Bennett," she said. She looked past us into the house. "May I come in?"
She stepped into the living room and didn't pretend not to look around. I watched her eyes move. The couch where Lily and Grace had been sleeping. The blankets folded neatly on the end. The small table where I'd set Mom's photo in its gold frame so we could see it from the kitchen. She made a small note on her paper.
"I need to walk through the house and talk to each of you," she said. "Separately, if that's okay. It's standard for any kinship placement."
Charles nodded. "Whatever you need."
She started with the house. She looked at the bedrooms, the bathroom, the kitchen. She checked the water temperature, opened the fridge, looked at the locks on the windows. Charles followed her, answering. He had two bedrooms and he'd already moved his things out of the smaller one so Lily and Grace could share it. He'd put a nightlight in the hall. When she asked about sleeping arrangements, he said, "Sophie has the couch for now, but I'm getting a twin bed delivered Thursday. I have the receipt."
She wrote it down. She didn't smile a lot, but she wasn't unkind.
Then she sat down with Charles at the kitchen table while I took my sisters into the back room. I could hear them through the thin wall. She asked how long we'd been there, what Arthur had said at the cemetery, why he had called. Charles kept his voice steady.
"He told me at the graveside he intended to place them in foster care," he said. "He said if I wanted them, I could take them. So I did."
"And you called us the next day?"
"I called Monday morning," Charles said. "I don't want this to be informal. They need stability."
I heard papers shuffling. "Do you have any documentation of the mother's wishes?" she asked.
There was a pause. I knew what he was deciding. The night before, he had made copies at the library of Mom's notebook and the letter from the envelope. He kept the originals and the phone with the recordings in his coat closet, locked.
He slid the copies across the table. "Their mother kept a notebook. And she left a letter. This is what she wrote about her husband's care during her illness. And about wanting the girls to stay together with family."
I heard Ms. Ramirez turning pages. She was quiet for a long time.
"These are copies?" she asked.
"Yes. A legal aid office told me to hold the originals and any recordings until we have a hearing and an attorney reviews them," Charles said. His voice got a little tighter. "I didn't want to hand over something that could get lost before a judge sees it."
"That's wise," she said. "I'll note that originals exist and are secured. For today, copies are enough to open the file."
Then it was my turn. She asked Lily and Grace to go color in the other room with Charles, and she sat with me on the couch. She didn't sit too close.
She asked me simple things first. What school I went to, what grade, what foods Grace wouldn't eat. Then, "Do you feel safe here, Sophie?"
I nodded. My throat felt dry. "Yes."
"Do you want to stay here with your grandpa and your sisters?"
I looked at the gold frame on the table. I had wiped it clean that morning. "We want to stay together," I said. "All three of us. That's what Mom wanted."
She glanced at the photo and wrote something down. "I see you keep her picture close."
"She was holding it when we came here," I said. "I don't want to put it away."
She talked to Lily next. I heard Lily's small voice say, "I like it here. Grandpa lets Grace sleep with the light on." And then Grace, who barely spoke to strangers, whispered, "I don't want to go to a new house."
When she was done, Ms. Ramirez stood up and took a form out of her tote. She laid it on the table in front of Charles, and then she looked at me.
"Based on what I've seen and what you've told me, I'm opening a dependency and kinship case today," she said. Her tone was official now. "I'm approving you, Mr. Bennett, as a temporary kinship placement pending an emergency family court hearing. That's the safest legal status for the girls right now."
Charles let out a breath I hadn't realized he was holding.
"Your father will be formally notified by the county today," she continued to Charles, then to me. "That means he can't just come and take you without a court order."
She handed Charles a single sheet, a checklist with boxes. "For the hearing, you'll need the bed set up, proof of income, a pediatrician appointment scheduled, and enrollment paperwork started. Bring the copies of the notebook and letter, and be prepared to talk about the recordings. And keep those originals safe."
Charles folded the paper carefully and put it in his pocket. "When is the hearing?"
"They've got you on the emergency docket," she said, zipping her bag. "Within a few days. Someone from the court will call you by tomorrow."
At the door, she paused and looked back at us, all three standing together by the couch. "You did the right thing calling," she said to Charles. "A lot of people try to handle it quietly and it falls apart."
After she left, the house was quiet except for the ticking of the old clock in the hall. Charles locked the door, then turned around. Grace was already tugging at his hand, Lily was leaning against him, and I was still holding Mom's frame against my chest, just like at the cemetery.
May you like
He looked at the checklist in his hand, and then at us. "Okay," he said softly. "We have a lot to do before that court date."
Outside, a county car pulled away from the curb, carrying the file that now had our names on it.
