Chapter 10

Sara reached into her bag for her keys with one hand while she balanced a sleeping Brenda on her hip. The little girl had fallen asleep on the car ride home. It was only about five o'clock in the evening, but she had passed out the moment they hit the highway. Sara knew tears could tire a person more than hours and hours of work. After she had sobbingly related her past to Grissom months before, Sara had slept for eleven hours straight. She remembered how he reached for his handkerchief from his pocket, never letting go of her hand. He had stayed with her until her tears subsided, and then, as if he sensed her need to be alone, left quietly, reminding her to call if she needed anything. Sara couldn't recall if she had thanked Grissom for being there for her. All she could remember was his attempt at smiling as he stood up and wiped her wet cheek with the back of his hand. She had clutched the handkerchief in her fingers as she watched him disappear through her front door, turning back to meet her eyes before ducking out.

Grissom had been everything she needed that day, Sara thought to herself with a sigh as she lay Brenda down on the couch, covering her with throw. He had sat there, on the spot where Brenda was now sleeping soundly, and listened. And when he had left, she had trudged to her room -- not bothering to toss her empties in the garbage -- to fall, fully-clothed, into bed, the strain of tears finally released hitting her.

She watched Brenda inhale and exhale peacefully. There were no signs of sadness in her countenance now. Sara briefly wondered if it was the same for herself, if her worries and troubles melted from her face during sleep, leaving her seemingly content. It would be a first.

Sara shook her head clear of those thoughts. She couldn't focus on herself. Brenda was there and she was in trouble. It had shaken Sara to the core to see the little girl cry, the little girl who had seemed so utterly unflappable in the face of tragedy, who hadn't shed a tear after witnessing the murder of her family. Yet the thought of disappointing Sara had brought Brenda to her knees with grief. It was if she was in mourning for the stolen book. She reacted to the theft the way some people reacted to death of a loved one. It hurt Sara's heart to think of Brenda so lonely that a third-hand book was a loved one for the little girl. And it stung to realize it had been the same for herself all those years ago. Sara had spent years masking the hurt, years convincing herself that she was a loner by nature.

But she wasn't.

She loved. And perhaps the people she loved were as damaged as she, but that didn't make the love worth any less.

In her address book was the phone number of Brenda's caseworker. Without a plan, Sara grabbed her phone and dialed, holding it to her ear as she scurried into her bedroom so as not to wake Brenda. In one long breath Sara explained the stolen book and Brenda's reaction while the caseworker, Beth Reynolds, listened quietly.

"Miss Sidle?" Beth asked once she was sure Sara had finished.

"Yes?"

"Is this the reason you called? A lost copy of Little Women? I don't mean to sound callous, but what do you want me to do?" Beth asked.

Sara was flustered. "I…don't know. She obviously can't stay there."

"We don't move children for these reasons," Beth explained. "Has Brenda reported any other problems?"

"No," Sara told her. "But…isn't there somewhere else where she'd be more happy?"

"Miss Sidle," Beth sighed, "you know how the system works. It's not like the hotels on the Strip. We can't move her if one group home doesn't have the amenities she's looking for."

Sara massaged her temple. She knew all of this. She knew it firsthand from living it; she knew it secondhand from working it. And yet it was as if all of the injustices of the system were hitting her at that very moment and every frustration was getting a voice. "Something has to be done," she said. "It can't stay like this."

"Unless Brenda gets adopted, it will."

"And that won't happen, right?" Sara said bleakly.

"You know the statistics. People want babies. Brenda is almost ten, the child of incest, and has suffered abuse and extreme emotional trauma," Beth reminded her sadly. "I could try to place her in a foster home again if something else happens, but she hasn't responded well with individual families. I was quite shocked to hear she was so happy spending time with you. She hasn't been the most interactive of children in the years I've known her."

"It just takes time…to get to know her," Sara answered. She hadn't been the most interactive of children, either.

"Not everyone has the time, Miss Sidle."

"I do."

"Excuse me?" Beth asked.

"I…I…want to try." Shit, shit, what am I saying? "I can-I can take her." The words were being yanked from her throat, as if a cowboy had lassoed them on her tongue and pulled them through her lips without her consent. "What's the process? I-I mean, how do I, uh…go…about…adopting Brenda?"

"Well," Beth began, rattling off the steps of adopting a foster child in the state of Nevada. Sara could tell the harried older women on the line was genuinely eager for Brenda to find a happy home, and it more than shocked the CSI that this seasoned caseworker who had no doubt seen it all believed that a thirty-three year old workaholic was the right one to provide it. "There is an initial assessment," Beth explained, "and of course a background check. But you work for the city, so that won't be a problem."

Sara's eyes widened as a cold, hard brick from her past came crushing down on her.

"I almost got a DUI over a year ago," she confessed quickly.

"Almost?"

"I was let off with a warning. I wasn't charged." Beth said nothing and Sara quickly added, "I haven't had anything to drink since I started mentoring Brenda. I promise. No alcohol. At all."

"Miss Sidle, I appreciate your honestly. This didn't come up when you were being approved for our mentoring problem, so I don't think it will be an issue here seeing as it isn't on record, although any future DUI during the assessment period will factor into our decision," Beth explained.

Sara felt her muscles loosen as she exhaled. "Okay. Okay."

"After a prospective parent is approved, they usually begin finding the right match -- a child they are compatible with. We can skip that step with you."

Though Beth couldn't see it, Sara nodded firmly. "Yep."

"The child moves in and you are once again assessed to make sure everything is going smoothly."

Sara waited a beat before asking, "And that's it?"

"Apart from a few papers to sign and lawyers to pay…yeah," Beth answered.

"How do I get started?"

Sara listened to the caseworker talk and was filled with dueling senses of eagerness and trepidation. After setting up a meeting with Beth, she hung up the phone, scared and elated. Brenda was still asleep on the couch, her face still content.

Sara hoped she could one day provide Brenda with waking contentment.

And maybe then she'd find her own.

TBC…

A/N: I couldn't find information on the process of adopting a foster child in Nevada, save for the fact that single people could adopt. As for the steps in adoption, I cribbed them from North Carolina.