Chapter 30 – Bad Luck

Bella

"Ms. Swan, the reason why I called you in here today is because I have some news," Jay told me as I sat across from him in his office.

"Okay?" I said reservedly, not wanting to get excited or anxious until I heard what he had to say.

"We've located your daughter."

I gasped, and my heart immediately began to speed. "Where? Is she okay?"

"She's… good."

"Wait, what is that supposed to mean? Why'd you hesitate?" I asked alarmed.

"Well, I haven't met her myself, but I've been reading her file all morning, and I have to say, it is a little concerning."

"How so?" I asked, suddenly feeling sick. He didn't even have to explain anything for me to know she had suffered; it was written all over his face.

He took a deep breath. "The first thing I read about Bree is that she was never adopted."

"Never?" I asked horrified.

"Unfortunately, no. It is rare for an infant to not be placed in a permanent home. Usually there are couples fighting over babies, but due to the fact that she was born premature and had a few issues at birth as a result, it's likely the agency couldn't find a couple willing to put in the time or money to care for a special needs child. Most people want a perfect baby, not one they know has some challenges. It says in her medical report that her lungs were severely underdeveloped and they suspected possible mental impairments as well. At the time, doctors weren't even sure if she'd live long enough to be discharged from the hospital."

"But she survived, right? I mean, why would they tell me my daughter is alive if she wasn't?"

"She survived, and she's doing fine now physically, but it does say here that she has some mental developmental delays."

He stopped and stared at me for a minute.

"Okay?" I said, prompting him to continue.

"I'm sorry; it's just, many times when a parent learns his or her child has some issues, they don't wish to continue with the process."

I scrunched my face in disbelief. "Nothing could ever make me not want her."

"Okay, just making sure. Special needs children often require a lot more attention than average children, and I'd hate to give this girl her mother, only to have her lose you again because you can't handle it."

"I have waited almost eleven years to learn she is alive. I would be grateful to have her back, even if she had no limbs, or eyes, or ears, and was missing half of her brain. She's my daughter; nothing will ever change that. I'm not like the other parents you've worked with, Mr. Jenks, I never chose to give up my child, nor did I have a legitimate reason for her to be taken from me. She was unjustifiably stolen, and I will be forever thankful to get her back, no matter what."

"I apologize, but I had to ask."

"I understand," I assured him, although I couldn't imagine any parent would be as heartless as to not want their child just because it wasn't perfect. Some people just didn't deserve to be parents at all.

"Okay, let's continue," Jay said, trying to get back on topic. "Now, she's been in and out of various children's homes and foster families, but she hasn't stayed in one place longer than six months at a time, which is one of the reasons it took so long to locate her."

"Are her needs really that difficult to handle that they couldn't find a single person willing to give her a home longer than half a year?" I asked angrily.

"Sometimes these things just happen. For some reason, Bree's had a bit of bad luck, and I don't understand it myself."

"Bad luck?" I said incredulously. Was that what they called neglect – bad luck? I wanted to yell at him for his comment, but really, there was no point. Jay was trying to help me, and getting on him for his choice words wasn't going to solve anything. "So, what are her needs?" I asked, hoping to move the conversation forward and get a better understanding of everything.

"Well, it says here that physically she's a normal ten-year-old, but mentally she's a bit delayed. Apparently, she doesn't speak much, and her academic tests are very low. The therapists who have worked with her never gave her an official diagnosis, but one note in here suggests she may have a form of Asperger Syndrome. It says she couldn't connect with people, but would listen to music all day if they allowed her to. She doesn't make eye contact, and would often just stare out the window blankly for hours at a time. – Well, here; perhaps you'd like to read this for yourself," he said while handing me a copy of her paperwork.

I scanned it quickly, intending to read it all more carefully at home that evening, but then I saw something utterly disturbing.

"What the hell is this?" I asked infuriated.

"Yes, that's another thing I wanted to talk to you about. She was recently involved in a scandal of sorts. Apparently, someone on the inside found out about your father's life insurance policy, and they got together with her foster parents and planned to use Bree to steal the money. Around the same time, she ran away from the home and was missing for about two months."

"Missing?" I asked with a sharp lump in my throat. "Did those bastards hurt her?"

"It's all still being investigated."

"So, that's a yes," I said with a mixture of heartbreak and rage.

"We don't know exactly what happened in that home, but I can assure you, it's not being taken lightly."

"And the time she was missing?"

"She was found on the streets of New York City."

"Oh my god… But it says here she went back to those people after she was found?"

"We weren't aware of the problem just yet. Bree never said a word, in fact, the agent who spoke to her asked if she ran away because she was being hurt at home, and she said no."

"Well, maybe she didn't understand the question!" I yelled, getting more and more worked up.

"Like I said, Bree was known for having mental problems, so no one was all that surprised when she ran away. There aren't many people willing to take on foster kids like her, so she was returned to the family. But I can assure you, she was only back with them for a day or so, and she is in a better situation now. In fact, that is the biggest obstacle you're going to face in getting her back. She's finally in a stable home, and her case worker has reported that she's thriving. A request for permanent adoption has been filed, and they're willing to go to court to keep Bree where she is. Which means, you're going to need a really good lawyer and it could get pricy."

"What are the names of her current guardians?" I asked, hoping I could call them personally and explain my situation.

"For privacy reasons, I legally can't release any names to you at this time. I'm sure you'll have a chance to meet them during the hearing though."

"I just want to call them. This doesn't have to turn into some ugly legal battle. If these people really want what's best for Bree, then we're in agreement and I'm sure we can figure it all out."

"It doesn't work that way. Now, the fact that you are her biological mother and you never agreed to give her up, will definitely push the case in your favor. But if therapists conclude that it may be detrimental to her wellbeing to be removed from her currently living situation, than there may be nothing you can do."

"I'm sorry, but I just don't understand. It says here she hasn't been in her current home longer than a month. How could she have made that much progress where they won't even consider letting me meet her?"

"It's a touchy situation."

"Fine. How long until we can see a judge about this?" I asked determinedly.

"That depends on you. If you can hire a good lawyer, then they may be able to move the process along faster. But if you leave it to the system, it could take months."

"Months? And allow these people that much more time with Bree? No, we need to get this done as quickly as possible."

"Alright, well here are the numbers you're going to need once you've hired a lawyer. Good luck."

"Thank you," I said before taking the copy of my daughter's file and the numbers, and leaving.

I was disheartened and even more determined at the same time. I absolutely hated that my daughter had suffered so much, but I would not stop just because some shrink said she was doing better where she was at. She belonged with me, and I would be the one to make sure she overcame the issues she had from her horrible upbringing.

"What am I going to do if I lose this?" I asked later that night over coffee with Alice and Jake. They had been helping me at the café, and they both waited around for me after closing to see how it went.

"You aren't going to lose," Alice said confidently.

"How do you know?" I asked, hoping she had a serious idea.

"Because I'm psychic," she replied with a wink.

I rolled my eyes, so she sighed. "Bella, I know you're going to get your little girl, because you are amazing. Any judge who meets you and hears your story would have to be crazy for not giving her back to you."

I smiled halfheartedly. "Thanks Alice, but there are crazy people out there, and it seems my daughter is a magnet for them," I said sadly as I looked down at Bree's life story in my hands. "I mean, if all those other people were able to fool the system, then how could they be so sure she's with good people now?"

"You know, maybe we should get married," Jake said unexpectedly.

"Huh?" Alice and I asked at the same time.

"Being married always helps in custody battles."

"Jake, that's really sweet, but I can't ask you to do that. Besides, what would your boyfriend say?"

"Boy toys come and go, but family is forever, sweetheart," he said to me while hugging me closer to him.

"Jake, I love you, and you know I'd do anything to get my daughter, but I really don't think that's the answer."

"Well, the offer stands if you change your mind."

"Thanks. Both of you. I have no idea how I would have handled any of this if I had to do it alone."

After hiring the best lawyer I could afford, we were lucky and he was able to get the custody hearing scheduled for the following week, which I was happy about. Worst-case scenario, I never got a chance to meet my daughter. At least I'd be able to look into the eyes of the people who were raising her, and judge for myself what kind of person they truly were.