AN: So sorry for the delay in publishing this chapter. Something was not flowing properly and I had difficulty pulling the trigger. Some edits may be forthcoming. I'm on vacation until January 13th so please note that a delay in the next chapter is likely.

Adams-Foster Residence:

Callie:

I had been in the bathroom too long. Though I wasn't sure of the precise amount of time I'd been hiding, my head hurt and my eyes were puffy from crying. I sighed and pulled myself off the ground, blinking back my newly forming tears. After taking several deep breaths, I blew my nose and splashed my face with a bit of cold water.

I leaned over the sink, staring at my reflection, as I considered how Marianna's problem was now mine. I let out a ragged breath and shuffled over to the bathroom door; it was time. I had to tell Jude that one - perhaps even both - of us would be heading to a new home within the week. He didn't deserve to be blindsided; not this time. In my haste to get to Jude, I barreled into Marianna and had to reach out to keep her from losing her footing.

I fought to control the torrent of emotions running through me before I asked: "Where's Jude?"

He's in my room looking at some magazines." she answered, "Why? Is something wrong?" "Yes." I hissed, stepping into her personal space, "something is wrong. Your moms are going to send me back to juvie because they think that I stole Jesus' pills and that I sold them. Given that you are the resident drug dealer, you can see how that is frustrating for me."

She took a step back, her eyes panicked and I felt compelled to pacify her, "I denied it, but they don't believe me." "What did you say to them?"

"I didn't tell them who stole the pills," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "I just told them that I didn't do it." Marianna's eyes widened in disbelief, "You didn't tell? Why not?"

"Seriously?" I queried. "As if they'd believe me over one of their real kids. I don't know what I'm going to tell Jude, he feels safe and I don't want him to have to start all over in a new place." When Marianna shrugged and turned toward Jesus's room, I frowned at her selfishness.

Jude was with Lena by the time I found him and I had no interest in interrupting that conversation. I retreated to the room I shared with Marianna and choked back tears as I folded my clothes and shoved them into my suitcase along with my favorite books. I would leave the rest with Jude. He would be inconsolable once I left and I hoped he would find refuge in some of the stories. After I'd finished packing my meager belongings, I slid my bag into the hall closet, where I could grab it without having to interact with anyone else.

I gripped my worn copy of The Girl with the Silver Eyes and slipped my mother's necklace into it as a bookmark. I reopened the book to write a note to Jude inside the front cover and slid it under Jude's pillow. It was my favorite book and he would understand the significance of me leaving momma's necklace and the book with him. He would know that it meant I trusted him to take care of it.

Marianna watched me as I left his room and walked outside. All I could do now was wait for Stef and Lena to kick me out.

Lena:

"I cannot believe she lied to our face, Stef; this is not acceptable. Stef sighed and started to respond when Marianna and Jesus walked into the room.

"Hi," I said, ready to send them back upstairs until Stef and I finished our conversation. Jesus ignored me, stepped out in front of Marianna and blurted out, "It was me!"

"What was you?" I asked, confused. "I did it. I sold the pills. It wasn't Callie."

Stef reacted first and demanded, "Explain. Now." I was baffled when I heard that Callie had not stolen his pills. No one had, he admitted. He'd gotten fed up with being the kid with ADHD and had stopped taking his medication. When Kelsey saw the pills and asked what they were, he told her and, at her request, he'd given her one and then another. The situation had spiraled from there and when she offered to buy the rest of his supply off of him, he'd agreed.

I looked at Stef in shock before muttering, "Jesus, give Mom and me awhile to talk about this. We will be discussing your consequences later." He nodded and started to walk off with Marianna before I stopped him with another question, "Wait. Why did you tell us now?"

"Callie." He frowned and continued. "Marianna and I were talking and she came in to pack up her stuff." I interrupted, "Wait, she was doing what now?" Jesus slowly repeated his words, "She was packing her stuff. She said that you guys didn't believe that she didn't steal the pills and she was crying because ... um, she thinks you are going to send her and Jude away." He stared at something in this hand before handing it over "We saw her put this under Jude's pillow." It was Callie's book with a necklace tucked inside, along with a note:

"Juju, this was momma's necklace. Other than each other, it's the only thing we have left of her. Take care of it until I get back and know that I will come back.

I will always come back for you. Promise.

Love,

Cal"

I battled a multitude of feelings when I thought about how Callie was feeling; how we'd made her feel.

"Have you seen Callie?" I asked Brandon as he came into the house. He pointed to the backyard and whispered: "Something's up with her; she's been crying." We found her sitting cross-legged under the tree staring at a book in her lap, Brandon's old guitar sitting beside her.

It took a second to realize that Brandon was wrong, she hadn't been crying, she was crying. "Callie?" Stef eased down beside her, "can we sit with you?" She continued to stare at her book as tears ran down her cheeks. Stef reached for the book and tossed it aside, causing Callie to flinch and scoot away from her. "Callie, what's going on? Talk to me."

Stef's question annoyed me; we knew what was wrong. We accused our twelve-year-old foster daughter of stealing and selling drugs. We made it clear that we didn't believe her when she denied it. We left her alone for two hours to think about the worse case scenarios of what could happen to her.

Instead of responding, Callie shifted closer to the tree, closed her eyes and took several shaky breaths before surreptitiously pinching her hand. We would need to talk about that at some point.

I grabbed her hands and held onto them until she looked at me and ripped them away, sliding them under her thighs. "Callie?" Stef repeated.

She finally looked up with tear-filled eyes and a quivering lip, her breathing audible. "If I confess that I did it - that I took the pills and sold them - will you keep Jude?" she asked. "If I tell you the truth and I promise to go, would you let him stay?"

I swallowed my tears at the hopelessness behind her question and asked, "Callie, why would you confess to something you didn't do?" She looked up in wonder. "We know you didn't take the pills."

"You believe me?" she asked, her surprise clear. I nodded my affirmation, "Yes, Callie. Jesus told us what happened." Her face fell. "Did you believe me before you talked to Jesus?" she asked. At my silence, she dropped her eyes and muttered "Oh." She pulled at the grass and queried, "But you didn't believe me when I said that I didn't do it?"

"We were given some false information from a student at the school and I promise I'm going to find out how that happened." Callie nodded, tucking her hair behind her ears.

Stef reached over and lifted her face, "Honey we're very sorry we didn't believe you. We feel that trust is something that has to be earned. We would really like to start earning yours." She dipped her head in acknowledgment and laughed derisively.

"Are you okay?" I asked when another tear snuck out before she could sweep it off her cheeks. At he, I said, "I'd really like to hug you Callie; can I give you a hug?" "No, thank you," she said her voice evidence of how close she was to crying. "May I be excused from our conversation, please?"

Without waiting for a response, she jumped up and retrieved the guitar before speed-walking into the house. Once she left, I moved to sit next to Stef and confessed, "I didn't even think about believing her". When she threw her arm over my shoulder, I leaned into her and cried.

Stef:

I hadn't seen Callie beam the way she did when we told her we believed her. I also saw the dimming of her smile when she figured out that, absent Jesus' intervention, she might have been heading back to Chula Vista. When she declined Lena's hug and, scarcely holding it together, asked to be excused, my heart broke.

Callie ran from us, literally and figuratively, for the remainder of the afternoon. She left the room, her eyes watery, when Lena or I walked in. She sat stoically through my attempts to engage her in conversation. She was silent during dinner and stared at her plate, though she gifted Jude an occasional smile. I pretended not to see her dump her chicken onto Jude's plate and let it pass when she declined dessert. At eight, she claimed exhaustion and asked if she could go to sleep early.

Uncertain of what else to do, we let her.

I glanced at the clock when I heard a door open; who the hell was awake at 2:00 in the morning? I slid from our bed and peeked out the door and spotted the culprit. Callie, our resident night owl. I watched curiously as she wandered downstairs and crept down after her. I was surprised when I didn't find her in the living room or the kitchen. I worried when I couldn't find her in the bathroom. I was frantic when she wasn't in the front or backyard and was sliding my shoes on to wander around the block when I heard the sound of leaves moving. I lifted my eyes and spotted the twelve years old in pajamas and boots.

"What are you doing?" I asked Callie after I'd finally spotted her on her branch. My answer was silence. "Do you come out here every night?" She ignored my second question as well, though at least the wind had the decency to answer me. "Can I come up there with you?" I asked, already climbing. She had climbed a branch higher by the time I made it up the tree and it was clear that she was crying.

"Are you okay? Clap once if you want to talk about it." The night remained silent and so did Callie. "You know, you scared me to death just now; I thought you left... You need to wake me or Lena up next time. At least leave a note." When she continued to ignore me, I settled in and tried to get comfortable in the tree.

My cell phone vibrated at 3:00 and I frowned when I saw Lena's name. "Hey honey" I whispered to Lena, who shouted into my ear that Callie was missing. "No, she isn't. I'm with her. Well, we aren't exactly in the house. We're in the tree." She shouted her confusion at me and I chortled at her profanity before passing along her message to Callie.

"Mama says we have to get out of the damned tree and get in our beds before she finds a chainsaw and cuts the tree down. She would do it too, so we need to get down. Will you climb down with me Callie?" She climbed down after a short while, ignoring the hand I offered her and headed inside the house. I followed and saw her grab her book and a blanket before strolling into the downstairs restroom. "Don't lock the door sweets," I requested, grateful when she nodded.

She had moved back to Marianna's room by the time I went to check on her at six.

Adams Foster Residence

The Next Day

Lena:

I went to the kitchen to start breakfast, surprised to find the coffee already made. "Did Callie make coffee?" I asked. "She must have" Stef answered, "the rest of the kids don't know how to and even if they did, I doubt they would. Be careful though" she said. At my querying look, she added, "She was pretty upset yesterday; it might be decaf." I laughed as I sipped the coffee; it was good.

"So - love of my life, mother of my children - can you explain to me why you were in a tree with Callie at 3:00 this morning?" She sighed, "I don't know love. I found her out there at 2:00 crying and I wasn't going to let her stay up there alone." I tilted my head inquisitively before grousing, "and it didn't occur to you to make her get out of the tree?" Stef walked over and relieved me of my coffee cup, taking a healthy sip, "What occurred to me is that she seems fragile and that she doesn't trust me. Next time she's up there, I'll wake you up and you can tell her to get down." I swiped my coffee back from her and scowled when I found the mug empty. I poured a second cup and headed upstairs to wake the rest of the kids.

The kids were animated over breakfast, except for Callie who sat quietly and did not eat. When the other kids headed out to the car, I nodded my head toward Callie, prompting Stef to ask, "Callie? Are you feeling alright?" She nodded. "Then you need to eat something, please."

She ate two spoonfuls of eggs and the yogurt I'd insisted she eat before getting up to leave. "Actually, before you go anywhere, don't forget we need to take you to get her stitches taken out today." She nodded her acquiescence before heading into the living room.

I kissed Stef before whispering against her cheek, "Good luck with that today. See if you can get her talk about last night."

Callie:

I disliked doctors and Stef's doctor was exceptionally irritating. He was chatty and smiled too much. I frowned when he asked about my favorite subject in school while he took my temperature. Why did he need to know that to remove stitches? Or fill out paperwork?

I answered his questions with silence and sighed in relief when he stopped talking to focus on my head and my ribs – spoiler alert, they still hurt. When he motioned me to another room to have the stitches removed, I went willingly, waving off Stef's offer to join me.

My panic attack caught me by surprise, triggered by watching the nurse hand the doctor a needle. My breathing shallowed as he closed in on me and my vision narrowed to a pinpoint as he administered the shot. I tried to ignore the familiar prick of the needle but it was too late. I found myself in the Wallace's living room with Mrs. Wallace telling me we were going to play a "little game." When the nurse handed the doctor a pair of scissors, I saw Jim holding a gun and aiming it at me.

Dr. Misarete is not Jim. Mrs. Wallace is not here. Dr. Misarete is not Jim. Mrs. Wallace is not here. This was my mantra ... but it was an ineffective one.

When Dr. Misarete came closer, I ducked under his arm and scrambled to hide under the table. I gulped down air and kicked at the nurse who was trying to pull me from under the table. When she caught my foot and tugged, I grabbed onto the side of the table and screamed in terror. "NOOOOO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. STEFFF!"

Stef:

I looked at Callie's medical file in the waiting room wondering if pages were missing. Had she not been to the doctor for a year and a half? Where were the records related to the abuse Bill had detailed? I'd have to follow up with Bill - again. Additionally, Lena and I would need to think about our next steps with the young girl. Our discussion yesterday had bred mistrust between us and had obviously hurt Callie's feelings.

I'd tried to smooth things over on the car ride over but Callie had ignored me - her silence loud - even when I'd asked her if she wanted to stop at Starbucks. I was not above a bribe. Her fear of doctors was clear after the situation with Jim when she had refused treatment for more than an hour. Still, she had waved me off from accompanying her into the examination room and, despite my better judgment, I'd heeded her request.

I closed the file and fought the urge to pump Jude for information on their past. When Dr. Misarete appeared without Callie minutes later, an anxious look on his face, I knew something was wrong. He asked the receptionist to look after Jude and motioned for me to follow him before speaking to me.

"I'm not sure exactly what happened but when I picked up a pair of scissors to remove the stitches, your daughter had a panic attack or ... something. We've been trying to calm her down but ..." He was cut off by Callie shouting "no" over and over again and then screaming my name.

I ran in the direction of her voice and saw a nurse trying to drag Callie out from under a table. "What the hell are you doing? Let go of her leg and move. Now." I commanded, hip checking her and crouching down to peer under the table. My heart broke when I spotted Callie cowering near the wall with tears streaming down her face. "Hey, honey." Callie stopped screaming but kept muttering "no" over and over again. "It's me ... it's Stef. I'm here. Can you come out from under there?" She shook her head no as she eyed me warily.

I laid down on my stomach and scooted closer to her, speaking in low tones. When she began to wheeze, I insisted, "Come on out now Callie, no one is going to hurt you." At her furtive glance to the doctor, I told him to leave. I offered her my hand and, after hesitating, she took it and crawled over to me. She was hot and sweaty but I pulled her onto my lap and held her head again my chest so she could hear my heartbeat.

"What happened honey?" I asked. She burrowed her face into my chest and wept. Sobs racked her body and when she got sick for the second time, I coaxed her into swallowing a sedative while I held her, whispering calming words in her ear.

Lena's concern was obvious when she walked into our bedroom and spotted the napping pre-teen in my arms, "Stef, what the hell happened? Were you able to figure out what set her off?"

I had called her on the drive home and asked if she could meet me after lunch. "She doesn't like doctors but, other than that, I have no idea, Len. She didn't seem so upset on the way there. I mean, she was ignoring me in the car but when they went back to take out her stitches, the doctor said they gave her a numbing agent ..." I trailed off as I recalled Bill's comments.

"The needle. He didn't even tell me he was going to numb her." Lena's brow furrowed in confusion. "Remember Bill's story ... about the second home." Lena nodded her response and reached for Callie's hand, inspecting it. "They still took the stitches out?" I looked at her seriously, "Of course they took them out. You think I was going to take her a second time after this?" Lena chuckled. "It's not funny Lena ..." I complained, "... we are going to have to get a new pediatrician. Dr. Misarete looked like he was scarred."

She walked over to the closet and mouthed that she was going to change. When she returned, she slid into the bed behind me. "How'd you get her home?" she asked, scooting closer to me. "I carried her; she weighs like seventy pounds," I replied. "Also, why are you getting all cuddly with me? Don't you have to get back to the office?" Lena sat up so I could see her face, "You don't want to cuddle with me?" Ignoring my eye roll, she continued, "I took the rest of the day off. I found myself feeling very tired today. Almost like I couldn't figure out where one of my children were at 3:00 AM."

Callie:

I was confused when I woke up in Lena and Stef's bed. I got up to move to my own bed when I saw Jude in the doorway of Stef and Lena's room, looking upset.

He walked into the room, asking "What are you doing?" "Uh. I was going to go to my bed; how did I get here?" "You don't remember?" he asked, sitting on the bed. "You freaked out at the doctor's office. Mom said it was because they gave you a shot."

The afternoon's events came rushing back and I warred against a second panic attack as I recalled the needle and the doctor who had looked so much like Jim. He looked at his feet, "She calmed you down after a while, but I could hear you screaming and crying. I was scared and they wouldn't let me come see you."

I rubbed my eyes, frustrated that I had scared him, "I'm sorry Jude. I didn't mean to scare you. I'm just tired." He smiled, "I'm just glad you are alright ... you are feeling better now, right?" I nodded my lie, "Much better." I paused and squinted at Jude, "did you call Stef 'Mom'?"

He rushed to explain, "Sorry! Everyone else calls her that and it slipped out earlier when I was talking to her. She said it was okay ... and I know she's not our mom but ..." He trailed off and looked at me for approval. I set aside my anger at Stef for giving him permission - we had a mom; her gravestone was twenty minutes away and Jude had her eyes. "It's alright Jude; you should call her whatever you want."

"Are you gonna be mad if I keep calling her that? Do you think mom would be mad?" I blinked back tears. "I think that, if mom were still here, she would be so happy that you found someone to call mom that she wouldn't have a chance to be mad at you. I think she would like Stef." I fought off more tears before asking Jude if he minded if I got a bit more rest. He shrugged.

I couldn't sleep, I determined. I couldn't shake off the image of Jim holding the gun and Ms. Wallace's twisted grin was haunting me. I grabbed the blanket Lena has given me and wrapped it around my shoulder. I shoved a pillow underneath my armpit and crept downstairs past the living room where Stef and Lena were watching a movie. I carefully opened the door to the closet in the laundry room and pulled it shut behind me, muffling the noise with my blanket. I found refuge in the small and dark space and reflected on my momma - her smile, her laugh, her eyes and her hugs - and tried to hold on to the memories as I dozed off.

Lena:

I smoothed my fingers over Stef's as we watched a movie. She had gotten up from our earlier nap and I found her staring into a cup of tea in the kitchen. I had forced her to lay down and had pulled her feet onto my lap as she rested. I let my mind wander and thought about the afternoon's events.

I had answered Stef's earlier call with a smile, figuring that Callie was wearing on her nerves. I couldn't blame her; the combination of the girl's teary eyes and silence played on my guilt all morning. When I answered the phone though, I heard crying in the background instead of Stef's voice. Before I could ask what was going on, Stef spoke into the phone and asked plaintively "Len, can you please meet me at home after lunch? Just for an hour or so?" I could hear the emotion in her voice as she detailed Callie's state before she added tearfully, "Honey, I am so tired and I don't know what to do to make her feel better. I need you to come home and help me." I had already started packing my bag and told Stef as much. "I'll be home in less than an hour Stef, I just need to talk to Sanchez."

I moved Stef's feet from my lap and caressed her face before going to check on Callie. It was nearing 3:30 now and I knew I needed to wake her up if we had any hopes of getting her to sleep at a reasonable time. The last thing anyone needed was another early morning scare of Callie sitting in that tree. I frowned when I got to the room and found our bed empty. "She went to lay down in Marianna's room" Jude offered when he walked by and saw me looking around.

Stef:

I woke to Lena shaking me with a frantic look on her face and whispering "Callie is missing!"

"Are you sure she's not in the house somewhere? Have you checked the tree?" She confirmed that she had, "I also checked Marianna's, Jude's and Brandon's rooms. I can't find her anywhere! Do you think she ran away?"

"No" I answered with certainty. "There's no way she would leave Jude." I heaved myself off the couch and heading to the backyard first, searching the tree for any sign of the young girl. When I didn't find her there, I peeked into the downstairs bathroom recalling her joke about hiding out there. Empty. As Lena continued to fret, I dragged her by the hand to Jude's room – if anyone knew where to find Callie, it would be him.

I found him reading and asked in a casual tone, trying not to panic him, "Jude. When Callie gets scared, where does she go?" He peered, amusement evident, "You don't know my sister very well. She doesn't get scared …". His eyes narrowed at me and said in a rebuking tone, "...unless people sneak up on her." I quirked my eyebrow.

"What about you? Where does she hide you when she thinks you aren't safe?" He studied the ceiling before replying, "Oh. Usually in a closet or someplace with a lock – but she always comes to get me. Why?" His expression hardened, "Did you scare her again? What did you do?" I concluded that the protective scowl often worn by Callie was genetic. "She got scared at the doctor's office today. I didn't do anything." He eyed me skeptically and, wearing a frown that aged him by four years, told Lena, "Stef scared Callie yesterday morning." And we were back to Stef…

I defended myself, "It wasn't on purpose, Len. She was cooking and sitting really close to the stove and she didn't …" at Lena's 'we don't have time for you to argue with an eight-year-old look' I let my voice trail off. "Nevermind," I grumbled. "Jude, Callie is still scared from the doctor's office this afternoon. Can you look around up here and call us if you find your sister?" He continued to regard me with suspicion and I sighed, certain that we had found the most skeptical kids in the foster care system to live with us. Unsure that Jude would call Lena or I if he found Callie, I left Lena with him and went to search the lower level of the house.

When my phone buzzed with a message from Lena, I wondered if they'd found Callie that quickly. I rolled my eyes when I read her message, "Jude is still tattling on you. You offered Callie Starbucks this morning?!" I didn't reply to the message and swore in frustration when I found Callie's packed bag stowed in the front closet; I had told the girl she wasn't leaving twice this morning and had asked her to unpack. A second glance confirmed that Jude's bag was also in there. I threw the two bags onto the living room couch and jogged to check the closet underneath the staircase.

My search ended when I spotted a piece of Callie's blanket sticking out of the laundry room closet. I tapped on the door and, when I got no response, I slowly opened it. Callie was sleeping on the floor with her necklace gripped tightly in one hand and dried tears on her face. I texted Lena to let her know that I'd found the pre-teen and that she should stay upstairs, Callie was asleep. I receive a new immediate reply "Nope. Jude is already on his way down." Of course, he is.

I threw some towels into the hamper outside the closet to make room for me to sit down and observed the young girl. I shushed Jude and he remained quiet as he ran evaluating eyes over Callie then me. "Come and get me when she wakes up" he directed me promising, "I'll be outside." When Lena followed him through the door, I grabbed my phone and snapped a photo of Callie sleeping in the closet. I was amassing quite a collection of these photos, I noted humorously. I toggled to my most recent conversation with my mother and was surprised to find a photo of Lena, Jude and I sleeping.

"Callie," I thought with a smile.