Chapter Two
Jenna had barely turned ten when she did something that would've gotten an adult sent to federal prison for a good, long time: she gave "Uncle" Oscar Goldman a black eye. She saw his big, black car coming down the driveway and ran outside, intercepting him just as he was getting out of his car.
"Hi, Sweetie," he said cheerfully. "I brought your favorite cook -"
Jenna ripped the box from his hand, threw it on the ground and stomped it into animal cracker pancakes. Then she drew back her arm and, with all of her 10-year-old might, punched him square in the eye. "NO!" she screamed, very close to hysterics. "NOT THIS TIME!" Jaime and Steve, hearing the commotion, headed outside. "YOU'RE NOT TAKING THEM THIS TIME!" Jenna yelled, sobbing now, "I WON'T LET YOU!"
Jaime reached her first. "Oscar, I am so sorry," she told him as she picked up her distraught daughter around her waist and carried her into the house.
"Jenna, what on Earth possessed you to -"
"I don't want you to go," the little girl cried as Jaime laid her down on the bed. "Someday, he's gonna take one of you away and you won't come back!"
Jaime pulled her daughter into a tight bear hug of an embrace, gently rubbing her back to try and soothe her. She was trying her hardest not to let Jenna see that mother and daughter shared exactly the same fear.
They tell me I gave Uncle Oscar one devil of a shiner when I was 10 or 11. I don't remember hitting him, but I will never forget the fear that provoked it: that makes-your-blood-run-ice-cold fear that makes you wake up screaming in the middle of the night. It was a raw, ugly certainty that, whatever was going on, I would lose one or both of my parents because of it.
Later that night, after Jenna had finally fallen into a restless, unhappy version of sleep, Jaime and Steve curled up in each other's arms by the fireplace to talk. Oscar had come for Steve this time, but Steve had demanded - and actually been granted - 24 hours before he had to report to OSI headquarters. He knew it was imperative that he at least try to set things right with his daughter first.
"Steve, we really have to tell her something," Jaime said quietly.
"What do you suggest we say? That her parents have been the government's puppets since before she was -"
"No, of course not! But she knows something's going on, and she's scared out of her mind."
"Sweetheart, they're sending me to the most unstable part of Iran, and they could very well turn around and send you next."
"They can't; one of us has to stay here with Jenna."
"They could, and you know it." Steve hesitated, knowing he was about to hit a true sore spot. "Maybe it's time to seriously think about sending Jenna to live with your aunt, just until -"
"No!" Tears streamed silently down Jaime's face. "We can't do that to her; not now when she's already so angry and afraid. Not ever!"
"Would you rather have one of the terror cells we're supposed to infiltrate decide she'd make the perfect little bargaining chip?" Jaime couldn't bring herself to answer. Steve pulled her closer, completely enfolding her in his arms while she sobbed on his shoulder. Though it completely shattered their hearts, they both knew Steve was right.