Chapter Fourteen: Collateral Damage

"How are you feeling?"

The question was expected, yet I soon found that finding the language to express my thoughts and feelings wasn't necessarily going to work. "Fine," I reply; it is an automatic response, almost like text guessing the next word on your phone. I bite my lip, turning to look out at the highway as Jensen pulls along.

"Sure was nice of Olivia to give you the rest of the week off."

I sigh, turning and putting my head on Lincoln's shoulder. "I'm starting to think that this nepotism thing is going too far."

"Meaning?"

I peek up at him. "Meaning that I just started at SVU this morning, and already I've been given vacation time. The only way I'd accept is if Olivia refused to have me paid for it."

"And did she?"

I stick my tongue out at him. "No," I reply.

My husband chuckles. "You'll get her next time," he assures me, his arm snaking out from under me to around my shoulders. "I actually have a little surprise for you, Detective Beckett."

"Oh, yeah?" I ask.

He smiles, reaching into his fine leather briefcase by unclicking the golden snaps on its side. Pulling out a legal folder, he hands it over to me. "Here you go," he says, and I straighten up to see what it contains.

Inside, I find a stack of paperwork, which is headed by STATE OF NEW YORK, CERTIFICATE FOR ADOPTION. "Lincoln..."

He tightens his grip upon me. "You wanted to make it official, so we're in the process of doing so. Barba hooked me up with the paperwork himself."

I turn to him and find I am smiling from ear to ear. "You're wonderful," I whisper to him, kissing him. "What did I do to deserve you?"

He shakes his head. "Right place, right time."

I put my forehead against his. "Seems that way," I reply.

Lincoln reaches down and puts a hand on my stomach. "And soon," he says quietly to me, "our family will be complete."

We arrive home within the next hour and I am pleased to see that Leia is still awake and fully ready to be paid attention to. She immediately jumps into my arms and tells me that she and I need to go shopping as soon as possible. Perplexed, I tell her that she needs a bath in preparation for preschool the following morning; it is something I know she looks forward to.

"But I need a dress and cards!" Leia proclaims.

I raise my eyebrows, before leaning down and kissing her on the forehead. "Is that right?" I ask her. "Why is that?"

"My birthday!" she proclaims, triumphantly.

Dammit, I think to myself. It was now the second week of October, which meant that Leia would be turning five in a month, as her birthday was on the twelfth of November. "That's right, sweetie," I say, beginning to run her typical evening bubble bath for her. "I'll tell you what—I have some time off work this week. How about if after school one day this week, you and I go out for some lunch and then we'll get you a new dress and everything you need for your extra-special, super-duper, fifth birthday party?"

Leia squeals and throws her arms around me. "Yay!" she cries.

I laugh. "Well, now that that's settled, we have something else to figure out," I tell her as she begins taking off her clothes to get into the bath.

"What's that?" she asks, handing me her dark pink sweater.

"Well," I say, helping her with her tights, "we need to figure out just what kind of birthday party you want."

"I want a princess party!" Leia proclaims immediately. "I want the boys to be princes and the girls to be princesses!"

I knew that I'd come to a crossroads in that moment—I could simply acquiesce to Leia's request, or I could turn the situation into a teaching moment. I decided to go with the latter. "Leia, sweetie, remember how Uncle Lincoln and I explained to you about Thompson's living situation?"

She nods. "Yes, Thompson is gay," she replies, proudly. "He has a husband—like you have in Uncle Lincoln. And you said that there's nothing wrong with it."

I nod. "That's right. I mean, you've seen them together when we have little parties with all our friends."

Leia sighs. "Yes... Mommy liked Thompson..."

"Yes. Yes, she did." I knew that I shouldn't brush Henrietta under the rug, but I also knew that the point should be brought up. "But you've seen Thompson with his husband, honey—how did it make you feel?"

"A little weird, at first," she confesses, in the honesty of a child. "But you told me that they love each other."

"Do you think people that love each other—regardless if they're a man and a woman, or two men, or two women—should get married?"

Leia smiles. "If they love each other."

I smile back at her. "Well, that thing you said earlier, honey, about the girls being princesses and the boys being princes..."

"Yeah?" she asks, watching me as I test her water temperature.

"Well, honey, how would you feel if, say, a boy wanted to dress up as a princess or a girl wanted to dress up as a prince?"

Her eyes widen with curiosity. "Do some kids do that?"

I nod. "Of course, even I did sometimes when I was younger. Sometimes, I wanted to be a pirate for the day or something, but most pirates have to wear pants—it makes getting around easier."

"So... Thompson is gay..."

"That's right, sweetie."

"And Mommy said she was a l... What was it?"

I smile at her. "Your mommy was a lesbian, sweetheart."

She nods. "Right. And is it called something if a boy wants to dress like a girl or a girl wants to dress like a boy?"

"Well," I reply, stopping her water, "it's called quite a few things. There's something that happens to some people who, when they're born, think that they're born into the wrong body."

"The wrong body?!" Leia demands, horrified, as she gets into the bathtub. "What does that mean?!"

"Well, sweetie, it means that some girls who were born with girl parts, or some boys who were born with boy parts think that they were born with the wrong private areas," I reply patiently. "They think, and feel in their hearts and minds, that they should have been born the opposite gender."

"Does every boy and girl think that?" she asks.

I smile at her, kissing her forehead. "No, sweetheart, not everyone. But I know in my heart and in my mind that if you feel that way, the most important thing is to have people around you who love and support you."

"Were you born that way, Aunt Edythe?" she asks me.

I shake my head. "No, honey. I knew from the moment I could understand such things that I was a girl, and now I'm a woman."

"Am I like that?"

"I don't know. Are you?"

Leia considers it for a moment, but ultimately shakes her head, finally sure of herself. "No."

"And that's okay, too," I reply, making sure I don't do so too quickly so as she will know that either way, everything would be okay. "But I know that Lincoln and I have discussed it and if we ever had children in that situation, we would be supportive."

"I'm a child..."

I find myself trying not to laugh at the obviousness of her statement; children were unabashedly honest, almost to a fault, and bluntness was a close second to their various attributes. "Yes, sweetheart, you are."

"Am I your child?" she asks. It is truly a poignant moment, and I find myself fighting to make sure that my eyes don't fill with tears. "Yes. Yes, Leia, you are," I say without hesitation, and cross my fingers that she doesn't mind.

She smiles for a moment. "Good," she says, before she becomes so fascinated by her rubber ducky that I know the conversation is over.

After putting Leia to bed—and reading the latest chapter in Half Magic by Edward Eager—I make my way to the master bedroom. I get into the shower, allowing the warm water to fall down my back. Turning at the sound behind me, I let out a laugh as Lincoln gets into the shower behind me. I throw my arms around him, the steam mutually clouding our vision, and I know that I will always, always, always be happy with him, no matter what life threw at us...

"Leia Gabrielle Beckett, I'm not going to call you again!" I holler up the stairs at her. "I had to be out of her twenty minutes ago! If you're serious about getting a car, young lady, you better show some responsibility!"

"Jeez, Mom, thanks a lot!" Leia says, stomping down the stairs, the sight of the highlights in her hair still a shock to me. "Why are you always staring at me?!" she demands, looking at the trio of faces at the bar.

Felicity, at age eleven, is constantly worried that she is doing something wrong, and shoots me a panicked look. "Mom, Leia isn't allowed to talk that way, is she?!" she demands.

I shake my head, kissing my younger daughter's forehead and ruffling her pale brown hair. "No, sweetheart, she's not." I turn to my two sons, Fin (now seven) and Hunter (now four). "Have you finished with your breakfast yet?" I ask the two of them, knowing that they understood that time was important.

"Don't you worry about a thing," Fairfield sings as he troops into the kitchen. "I'll drive them to school."

"You sure you don't mind?" I ask him.

He smiles; silver had begun to gather at his temples, but his eyes had still retained their youth and splendor. "You gave me full-access to the mini-van for a reason, didn't you?"

I nod at him, pulling him into a hug. "You're right, you're right," I say, clapping him on the shoulders as I pull away. "Thank you. Okay, everyone, into the car, and give Mommy her goodbye kisses."

All my children—even Leia—come forward and kiss and hug me goodbye. I hand over their specially made lunches by Thompson and wave them out, sending a quick text to Amanda that I was going to be late. Since Olivia had retired after being shot in the line of duty a decade ago, Fin had taken over SVU, until he decided to focus more on Ken, his son, and had left the squad five years ago. Now, Amanda was the commanding officer, with Carisi as her second, as Lieutenant of SVU, and I myself had been promoted to Sergeant of SVU a year and a half ago. It was interesting, especially considering they would ask me my opinion whenever it came to hiring new detectives, and my new partner, Darcy Pollock, was no exception, although she was a straight-shooter.

Just as I'm about to head out the door and get into the car, I get a phone call from the fostering agency that Lincoln and I had signed up for in the year after Fin had been born. I let out a half-groan, knowing that, should I take the call, that I would probably end up being even later. However, this was a part of my job—saving children—and I knew that I had an obligation. I quickly swiped right on the green phone icon, and put the phone up to my ear.

"Sergeant Beckett," I said promptly.

"Hello, Edythe, it's Jackie,," she replied efficiently, her kindness always prevalent whenever I took her phone calls. "How are you this morning?"

"Fine, thank you, Jackie," I reply, walking back into the living room. "I do hope everything is fine on your end as well."

She sighs. "Well, not all fine. To come right out with it, Edythe, we have a pair of teenagers who need your help."

"Uh-huh," I say. "What are their names?"

"Chelsea and Owen Torrance," Jackie replies. "They're twins. They're almost seventeen years old."

"What's the reason behind them being fostered?" I ask.

"Dad's in prison for life for murder," she says, despair in her voice, "The mom was just murdered in a knife fight over the weekend over a dispute involving a certain brick of crack cocaine."

"You've got to be kidding me," I reply, putting my head in my hands. "Well, I have some vacation days saved up... I'll call my captain and let her know that I'm not coming in today. Thankfully, it's Friday and I'll have time to get them settled in here... When can they be here?"

"Noon is the soonest we've got somebody coming out that far..."

I nod. "That's perfect," I reply. "I'll get two of the guest bedrooms ready and go out and furnish the rooms appropriately... What are they into?"

"Chelsea is all about fashion, believe it or not," Jackie replies, a slight chuckle behind her voice. "All about pop culture and all that. Owen, on the other hand, is a complete bibliophile who loved classic literature."

"Okay, got it," I say, having put Jackie on speaker and taking down her notes in my notepad app. "And how is there clothing situation?"

"Not good, I'm afraid," Jackie replies. "We have their sizes in their folders—they've been in care before—and we always take it down so as the foster parents can potentially provide clothes beforehand."

"Can I have their sizes, please?"

Once Jackie has given me all the information she can, I make sure that she still has my address on file before I end the conversation. Getting to my feet, I quickly call Amanda and explain the new development, and she is very understanding. After busting a child pornography ring earlier in the week, she is very forgiving of me for taking the day off work to help some needy teenagers. I make my way upstairs, sending a quick text to Lincoln before he heads into court to begin prosecuting the child pornography ring I'd taken down, and peek into the various guest bedrooms we had available.

I selected a wonderful green room for Owen, which I decided to fill with the ornately carved bookshelves some books from our library, as well as shopping for some new ones with him. I made note of people deemed to be philosophical by the younger crowd and decided to get posters of Shakespeare, George Orwell, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Stephen King, Ernest Hemingway, and Charles Dickens to cover what would now be his walls. I would get him new sheets, pillow shams, and a duvet that would match his bedroom walls, and anything else I decided he would need to ask me for.

I leave the bedroom door open, even opening the window to let in the heavenly June air; the scent of the water fills my nostrils as I step out what is now going to be Owen's bedroom, before heading down the hallway to another bedroom, just opposite of Leia's large room at the end of the corridor. I open the door, looking at the beautiful, antique wooden sleigh bed frame, and take in the color of the walls around me. It is an appealing pale purple, with the molding and paneling done in an attractive, Regency-style off-white.

The bedding is white, and it had just been changed during spring break, complete with five pillows—I decided to get a sixth for a potential splash of color—sheets, and a goose down comforter, which each bed in the house sported. The pictures around the room were black and white stills of old-timey actors and actresses, plus a few framed of famous landmarks, which included but were not limited to the Eiffel Tower, the Sydney Opera House, the Coliseum, the Leaning Tower of Pisa, and the Arc de Triomphe. I decided to buy a subscription to Vogue, Elle, Marie Claire, Cosmopolitan, Teen Vogue, Glamour, Allure, Vanity Fair, and W so as Chelsea would feel more at home—plus some hip clothes would probably help the transition period as well.

I check my watch and see that it is nearing nine a.m., and I know that, should I want to get everything done in preparation for Chelsea and Owen's arrival, I would have to get a move on. I quickly texted Jackie as I headed out the door if either of them had any food allergies, and cursed myself for not asking her earlier. Jackie got back to me and said that Chelsea was lactose in-tolerant, but enjoyed a specific brand of milk and that she could eat yogurt, cheese, and ice cream. Jackie also mentioned that Owen had a nut allergy, but that it just involved consuming it, so he would be all right if my other kids were eating it. I decided to also make a run to the store after purchasing the ornamentations and the textiles that I'd already made mental notes of, wanting to be sure that both new additions to the family—whether they would be temporary or not, would feel right at home.

I quickly called Jackie as I pulled into the parking lot of the mall. Once she answered, I said in a rush, "Sorry, I meant to ask—are either of them vegetarian or vegan or something?"

Jackie laughs at me being flustered; she was the first person that I'd become best friends with since Gina moved to Japan after getting a lucrative job at a law firm out there and Henrietta had passed away, so it was nice to have someone to laugh with again. "No, they love meat, Edythe."

I sigh, relieved that the shopping wouldn't be as complicated. "Okay. Okay, I think I can handle this."

"I've emailed you lists of snacks that they like," Jackie tells me patiently. "Don't worry—you'll do fine."

"Thank you," I reply. "Will you be dropping them off?"

"Yes, and I'm so sorry, but the drop-offs been pushed to one o'clock. Will that be a problem, Edythe?"

I shake my head. "No, of course not. Fairfield is handling all the pick-ups and drop-offs for the kids today—I asked him before I left the house earlier and he's handling all of it."

"Excellent," Jackie replies. "Oh, dear—I have another call."

"No problem," I tell her. "See you later."

Leaving my car and heading into the department store, I manage to find a nice salesgirl, and explain that I am shopping for almost-seventeen-year-olds, and she shows me their teenager section. I buy mainly sweaters, collared shirts, slacks, suit pants, dressy shoes, and things like that for Owen, after being sent a few images from Jackie about the kinds of clothes that he is into. For Chelsea, I get leggings, skirts, jeans, blouses, t-shirts, flats, sneakers, dresses, and various hair accessories that I think she'll enjoy. I also get a few, moderately-priced pieces of jewelry, especially when the salesgirl tells me that they are very 'in' right now.

Next, I head next-door to a bookstore, where I buy many bestsellers and classics for Owen, including the Harry Potter series, Nineteen Eighty-Four and Animal Farm by George Orwell, The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut, The Things They Carried by Tim O'Brien, Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer, A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens, and Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck. I also made good on getting Chelsea some magazines, and paid for everything before heading back to my car to go to the grocery store. After managing to find all the snacks that Chelsea and Owen wanted, I drove through a coffee stand for a Frappuccino so as I would be alert for their arrival. I returned home within the hour, and saw that it was nearly eleven o'clock. I quickly put all their clothes into the two washing machines we had and, when they'd finished washing and drying, I brought them all upstairs and folded them and put them inside the dresser and wardrobes respectively. Next, I placed all of Owen's new books and Chelsea's magazines into their respective areas—on Owen's shelves and Chelsea's class table in between the foot of her bed and the desk with the laptop on it, the same as Owen's bedroom.

Once their new clothes were folded and put away, as well as their accessories—both indulgent and textile-wise—I decided to begin setting up a plate of snacks and drinks for them. As one o'clock dawned, I'd just set everything up in the living room when there was a knock at the front door. Pulling a bit at my collared sweater shirt, I made my way through the living room and into the entryway, where I unlocked the front door and smiled at Jackie briefly before locking eyes with each twin respectively.

"Come right in, welcome," I say, taking note of their light baggage. "You can put those by the stairs—we'll take them up later," I say quietly. "You can hang up your coats in the coat closet right here," I say, opening the door, while Jackie merely hangs hers on the tree by the door.

"Thank you," Chelsea says.

I turn and look at her. "You're welcome," I reply, touched. She is a few inches shorter than me—around five feet three—and has wide, dark eyes and long, deep brown hair. Her skin, like Owen's, is as alabaster as mine, and her mouth has the perfect pout to it that all the girls want.

Chelsea moves back after hanging her coat as Owen moves to hang his. "You're nice to open up your house like this, Sergeant Beckett."

"Means a lot to us," Owen puts in, hanging up his coat in the closet.

Even though it was June, a chill had developed that afternoon, so the coats, I supposed, were warranted. "Why don't you come into the living room and sit down?" I asked, and Jackie nodded at me in approval.

"Thank you," Chelsea said, following Owen, who was close to Lincoln's height at over six feet. Chelsea took a seat on the couch, while Owen took an armchair, and I moved to sit next to Chelsea, while Jackie sat on a loveseat. Chelsea looked as if she was admiring the room, and then her eyes caught the table in the center of it all, and saw the provided snacks. "Oh," she said, shocked.

"I had Jackie tell me all about your favorite foods," I tell them gently. "I also was told of your food allergies, which I've passed on to Thompson."

"Who's Thompson?" Owen asks, curious.

"He's our cook," I reply. "I'm a police sergeant for Special Victim's Unit in Manhattan, and my husband is the Manhattan District Attorney, and we have four children between us, so we have busy lives."

Chelsea bites her lip. "They mentioned that you adopted one of them," she says softly, almost as if she is afraid of offending me.

I nodded. "It's okay, Jackie," I say, when I see Jackie giving Chelsea a look. "I did, well, my husband and I did. We adopted our oldest, Leia, after Lincoln's younger sister, Henrietta, unfortunately passed away. We even had to come home early from our honeymoon to take custody of her. But, we don't resent her, and adopted her a few months later, when she was five."

"How old is she now?" Owen asks.

"She's sixteen," I reply. "She'll be seventeen in November."

"And your other three kids?" Chelsea asks.

"Fin, my oldest son, is seven—his birthday is the same month as Leia's—and my younger son, Hunter, is four," I reply. "I was going to take Leia car shopping in the next few weeks, and we'll get you enrolled in her high school so that she can take you in the mornings. Do either of you drive?"

"Yes," they both said.

"And doesn't Leia go to the Frank Sinatra School of the Arts?" Jackie puts in. "It's an audition school, isn't it?"

"Didn't you see our file?" Chelsea asks, looking slightly hurt.

"That's where we go," Owen says quietly.

"That's great," I say, knowing that it would certainly make the school run easier on particularly hectic mornings. "What art majors are you doing? Leia is doing drama, film, and vocals."

"Drama, instrumental music, and fine arts," Chelsea replies.

"Drama, film, and fine arts," Owen says.

"Well, then I suspect you'll be seeing Leia around school," I say. I assumed that the twins had been a part of a scholarship program, due to their lack of finances that I expected they'd been a part of. "Hey, why don't I show you around the house a bit? Then, you can take your things upstairs to your rooms."

"We get our own rooms?" Chelsea asks.

I blink—had they not had their own rooms at home? "Yes, of course," I reply. "It's is in my code of conduct that I provide children with their own rooms. Were you both six-years-old and younger, then you could share a room. At sixteen, for both of you, it would be inappropriate for you to share a room with someone who isn't the same gender."

"Thank you," Owen says, softly.

"I'll get the paperwork for you to sign all put together while you show them around the house," Jackie says efficiently, fishing into her bulky purse as I get to my feet and motion for them to follow me.

"Through here is the kitchen," I say, and Thompson is just putting a batch of cookies into the oven. "Hey, Thompson."

He turns around and smiles at me. "Good afternoon, Edythe," he replies. "And this must be Owen and Chelsea. How do you do?"

"Fine, thank you, Thompson," Chelsea replies.

"Nice to meet you, Thompson," Owen says.

"We eat our breakfast here at the bar," I say, motioning to the eight-seater bar we had had custom-made over a decade ago. "There's a nook over there and we have our lunch in there. And beyond that is the dining room where we have our dinner every night, if we're all home." I move to keep the tour going, and Owen nods to Thompson while Chelsea gives him a little wave. "Back down this hall is the entertainment room on the other side, while right here," I say, opening the door and watching for Owen's reaction, "is our library."

"You have a library?" he whispers, his eyes wide.

I nod at him. "Yes—I told my husband that before we were married, my dream house had a library; he listened. He also uses it for his office if he brings work home with him. Classics on this shelf, contemporaries on that one. We also have a young adult section as well."

"Harry Potter," Chelsea says, looking at the young adult section.

"Of course—but everyone has their own copies of those," I explain. "These are the library copies. You can take out as many as you like, and read them anywhere you like; Lincoln and I just ask that you bring them back into this room and put them back as soon as you've finished." I take them out of the library and back down the hallway, where they each grab their suitcases and bring them upstairs. I open the door to Owen's room first, and his eyes widen.

"My room?" he asks.

I nod. "Yes. I took Jackie's specifics to heart."

Owen walks over to his wardrobe, unsnapping his suitcase and opens it, to begin putting his clothes away. "Clothes?"

I nod. "Yes. I did a little shopping. For you, too," I say to Chelsea, turning around and squeezing her shoulder, and she looks like a child on Christmas morning. "So, are you all right in here?" I ask him. "Mind if I show Chelsea her room?"

"No, no that's fine," Owen says in a rush, dashing the tears from his eyes. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," I say, putting an arm around Chelsea as we walk down the hallway. "Jackie told me about your likes and dislikes, so I thought this room would be perfect for you," I say, opening the door. "Go on in."

Chelsea steps cautiously over the threshold, but spots the magazines and gasps at their glossy covers. She sets her suitcase down beside the wardrobe and opens it, her eyes widening at the clothes I'd bought her. "You're nice," she says softly, and turns to face me. "You really didn't have to do all this."

I smile at her. "Do you like everything?"

She runs her hand over one of the sweaters I'd bought her—cream, long-sleeved, with thick, black stripes. "Our mom... She never did anything like this—for either of us."

I step forward, and put my arm around her shoulders again. "Some moms are better at doing different things."

Chelsea shrugs.

"What was your mom good at?"

"Being in the wrong place at the wrong time," she mutters. She leans into me, and I know that, above all, Chelsea needed comfort.

"Well, rest assured that you'll be very happy here."

She peeks up at me. "My mom didn't understand me."

I cock my head to one side. "What do you mean, sweetheart?"

"Well..."

Owen suddenly appears in the doorway. "You should unpack now," he says to his sister—more helpful than controlling.

Immediately, feeling out of bounds, I step back from Chelsea. "He's absolutely right," I say, squeezing her shoulder as I walk past. "You're still unpacking, or just getting the feel of your room?"

Owen smiles. "Maybe a little of both."

"I see," I say. "Well, have fun. Have you looked in the two doors yet?"

"In my room?"

"Yes. Every room has three doors, but two are on the inside."

He blinks. "What are they?"

"One is a walk-in closet, the second is an en suite bathroom."

"What's en suite mean?" Chelsea asks.

"Connected," Owen says quickly.

"You are a bibliophile," I say, shooting Owen a smile. "I have to go downstairs and sign that paperwork now. Once you've both finished unpacking and gotten the feel of your new rooms, come downstairs. Jackie and I won't be much longer and the two of you can have some milk and cookies."

"I can't..." Chelsea begins, looking unsure.

I smile at her. "Don't worry—I bought your milk and Thompson knows all about your food allergies. Trust me, you'll both be fine here." I move towards the staircase and head down, making my way past the foyer and into the living room and flashing a smile at Jackie. "They're settling in fine," I assure her as I sit down on the couch beside her. "Now, where do I sign?"

I'd called Fairfield to let him know to tell the kids that Chelsea and Owen were now living with us. I also called Amanda and told her to expect me on Monday, bright and early, for work. And I'd also made a call to Leia, telling her that I was taking her car shopping that weekend, letting her know that she would also need to be on hand to give Owen and Chelsea rides as well. When Leia, Felicity, Fin, and Hunter all flew into the house, with Fairfield bringing up the rear, that afternoon, I had already called Chelsea and Owen downstairs to meet them.

"Come on into the living room," I said, knowing that the scent of Thompson's chocolate chip cookies would literally sweeten the deal.

Felicity, always astute when it came to having new people in the house, took her customary place on her favorite couch cushion. While Leia attended Frank Sinatra School of the Arts, she and her younger brothers attended Sappo School, a K-12 private school not too far from the house. We'd told her that, after eighth grade, she would be allowed to go to a high school that specialized in arts, or a magnet school she wanted, if she so chose.

"Nice to meet you," she said, smiling at Chelsea and Owen in turn. "I'm Felicity, I'm eleven, and I play violin."

Chelsea is immediately taken with her. "Nice to meet you," she says, and puts out her hand. "I'm Chelsea. I'm sixteen. I like designing clothes."

Once Owen, Fin, and Hunter had introduced themselves, I had just managed to get Leia to open up when I heard a key in the lock.

"Oh, good," I say, walking towards the front door and automatically grinning like a love-struck teenager when Lincoln opened the door. "Hi, honey. You're back early," I say.

"Court case let out early," he says. "They'll need you in court to testify first thing on Monday."

"Sounds great," I say, letting out a small squeal as he pulls me into his arms and kisses me. "Not too much, honey—we have company."

"And they won't miss us for five minutes?"

"Honey!" I scold him, hating the fact that the look he gives me still permits my knees to go weak. "Come on. Don't you want to meet them?"

"Fine," he replies, shooting me a smile as I take his coat from him and hang it inside the closet.

"Chilly in the courtroom?" I ask conversationally as I follow him into the library, where he places his briefcase on his desk.

He shrugs. "No more than usual. Barba set a standard for courtroom dressing. I have to keep up appearances, you know?"

I nod. "Of course." I then allow him to take me by the hand as we return to the living room, and everyone in there turns at our entrance.

Immediately, Leia, Felicity, Fin, and Hunter set upon Lincoln, throwing their arms around him in a moment of joy. With screams of "Dad!" and "Daddy!" filling our ears, I can't help but wonder how this will impact Chelsea and Owen's feelings. I also wondered that, despite their father being in prison, and thought that I would need to ask them about that. I'd managed to find out that he was locked up in Attica, and knew that we in SVU had pull there. If either of them wanted to go and see him, of course I would support it.

Later, after eating the dinner and dessert Thompson had provided—and renewing my promise to Leia to go and buy her a car the following day—I made sure that Fin and Hunter were all asleep. Hunter's established bedtime was eight, while Fin was permitted to be awake until eight-thirty; as for Leia—whose bedtime was whenever she wanted, as long as it was before midnight on school nights—she would have the same rules as Chelsea and Owen.

I explained as much to both of them, and they were fine with that. I checked on Owen myself after he'd taken a shower around nine-thirty, and told him that he was permitted out on school nights until seven, if he had our permission and we knew where he was. I said curfew on weekends was eleven, and he seemed to absorb the information like some high-class kitchen sponge. He smiled and said that he didn't go out much, other than a few late nights in the school theater for play rehearsal, but he would let me know otherwise. I said that we had an extra car for such things—which Leia used whenever she was in a late rehearsal—which I said I'd give him the keys for once we got Leia her car.

I went in to check on Chelsea, who had also taken a shower, and went into her bedroom. She had her nose in a fashion magazine, but once I seemed like I wanted to talk to her, she promptly put it aside. I explained the rules about curfews and whatnot to her, and also mentioned about her dad, which I'd also said to Owen, about visiting him in prison.

She shrugged. "I don't know—he didn't really get me either."

I mulled that over for a moment. "Sweetheart, when you say that your parents didn't get you, what do you mean? Did they not think you being involved in the fashion industry was a good career choice, or...?"

Chelsea shakes her head. "No, it's nothing like that. But it does have to do with something I like."

I raise my eyebrows, having an idea of what she was talking about. "Chelsea, are you telling me that your parents didn't approve about potential romantic interests you had?"

She bites her lip. "Yes," she replies.

I decide to be careful, not wanting to offend her to the point where she wouldn't talk to me at all. "Were you running around with boys they didn't approve of or something?" I ask her.

She shakes her head. "No—I think that would've been an improvement over what I do like."

"You can tell me, Chelsea. Really."

She pulls up her legs so as her knees are tucked beneath her chin. "It won't get me thrown out of the house?"

"Unless you're doing something illegal, then no."

She shakes her head. "It's not illegal."

"Well, all right, then. What is it?"

Her eyes lock with mine. "I'm gay," she replies. "I'm gay, and I have a girlfriend and my mom and dad didn't like that."

I smile at her, pleased that she's opening up to me. "It's okay, sweetheart. Is she someone you go to school with?"

She nods. "Yeah—she's a junior, too. Her name is Miranda Andrews. She's in the dance program—she wants to be a ballerina."

"That's wonderful. Just let me know if you ever want to have her over for dinner—Lincoln and I would love to meet her."

Chelsea smiles. "Thank you for not hating me."

I shake my head at her. "Not for that—never." I say goodnight shortly thereafter and make my way down the hallway. I stop into Leia' bedroom, but she is reading a book for school; I remind her not to stay up too late, telling her again about car shopping the following day. I head to my bedroom to change, knowing that Lincoln will be in his office for a little while longer. Just as I've changed into a new outfit—more for him than for me—to go and surprise him, my phone vibrates and I answer it. "Beckett," I say into it.

"Hey, Edythe, it's Amanda."

"Amanda, hey. Everything okay?"

"No, not entirely. There was a break-in at your mother's house."

Immediately, I'm on edge. "A break-in?"

"Yes. She and your father were working late in the city, and your sister Olivia was supposed to be watching the boys."

I sigh, shaking my head. In recent years, Livi had been in and out of drug rehab and at sixteen, wasn't much of an improvement. "How are Donnie and Mason?" I ask, hoping for some good news.

"That's the thing, Edythe..."

"What's the thing?"

"Livi is here, all beaten up..."

"Can she talk?"

"Edythe..."

"Put her on, Amanda," I say my voice firm. "Now." I wait for a moment and then I know that Livi is on the other end of the phone. "Livi."

"H-hi, Edythe." "Dear god, what did you do?" I demand, already changing. I don't get much out of her, so I get into a spare change of clothes, sending Lincoln a text that I'm going out and drive like a mad woman nearly two hours north to get there. I know then that my parents are more than likely knee-deep into something not to arrive yet, and make my way from my car and into the front door. I see Livi sitting there, two black eyes taking over her face, a bag of frozen peas covering one of them.

"Livi." I step forward, and neither Amanda nor Carisi stop me as I bend down in front of her. "What the hell did you do?!"

She shudders, knowing that I've officially gone full-cop mode on her. "Mad Dog needed money... I couldn't give it to him..."

"Mad Dog?!" I demand. "Your pimp? Livi, you promised Mom and Dad that you would quit this life..."

"I'm sorry!" Livi screams. "He took the boys... He took them... He said that if I couldn't pay the debt, he'd take them as collateral and he did!"

"Oh, my god," I say, shaking my head and feeling sick to my stomach. "Let me see your cell phone."

Livi goes pale. "Why?"

"Give it to me, or I'm taking it."

"No..."

I reach down and take it from her pocket, while she attempts to hit me and fails miserably. "Your birthday is your passcode? Really?" I say to her, shaking my head at her stupidity before unlocking her phone effortlessly and scrolling through her texts. I see the texts from her and Mad Dog, and know immediately that she has the whole thing staged—broken windows, valuables scattered around the house, a fake assault... "Read it and weep," I say, tossing the phone to Carisi, who promptly shows it to Amanda.

"I'll be damned," Carisi says, shaking his head.

Amanda looks at me, before nodding. "Your collar," she says.

Nodding back, I turn to Livi and haul her to her feet. "Olivia Grayson, you're under arrest for conspiracy to commit kidnapping, staging a robbery, and staging an assault," I say, just as my parent's troop into the room.

"Edythe!" my father says.

"What are you doing?!" my mother shouts. "Let go of her!" she says, crossing the room and attempting to get my handcuffs off of Livi.

"Read the text please, Captain Grayson," Amanda says, and nods for Carisi to hand over Livi's phone.

"I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding," my mother says, and I feel my mouth drop open at that.

"No, it's not," I say. "God... I can't believe you let your own biological daughter manipulate you like this..." I shove Livi towards the door, where a pair of her shoes and one of her jackets are located. "Put those on, let's go," I say, hauling her out into the darkness, physically feeling both of our parents at my heels. "Don't try to stop me from doing my job," I say, not looking back at them.

"You're out of the family if you do this!" my father shouts as I put my hand on top of Livi's head and put her into the back of my car.

I turn and look back at them, forcing myself not to cry. "I was out of the family a long time ago," I reply, shutting Livi into my car before rounding it myself and driving off their property and into Manhattan.