Author Note:

Hi everyone, hope you enjoy this one as much as I did writing it. I was trying to depict an effort to return to normal family routines. This was supposed to be a fluff chapter to give myself a break but admittedly, I'm going through some personal stuff and it came out a little darker than intended.

I've been doing as much research as I can to learn about the intersections between the youth criminal justice system and foster care in the US for this and the next couple chapters (next one will be all sorts of legal). From my understanding, the process sounds similar to Canada when youth in care also have criminal justice overlap. Any and all mistakes are my own. ~b'shert

Chapter 24: Hope in Shadows

Stef groaned as she surveyed the memos and unfinished reports piled onto her desk. After reviewing the third file that had been allocated to her caseload, she was nowhere near done. Out of respect for time to be with family, she rarely worked Sundays; however, home was a huge stressor right now and she needed a break. Sneaking into work for a few hours to get caught up and organized for the week sounded like the perfect reprieve.

Still, it'd been hard not to get distracted by the situation at home. Friday had simply left her and Lena drained, and with all five children vying for their attention, it felt like they had barely recovered. On top of that, she was in the doghouse with Lena and their conversations had been strained at best. Callie had returned to the quiet, compliant child they knew from when she first entered their home. Although she had always been reticent around them, their interactions felt more forced than ever and she didn't speak beyond what was needed to answer their questions. In the face of new mistrust, she and Lena could only guess what was going on. On several occasions, Stef had noticed Callie turn the other way in the hallway or duck into the bedroom to avoid running into each other.

At first, she had been convinced that Callie was angry with her, but it quickly became apparent that fear was the predominant issue. That was almost worse because she had no idea how to help her daughter out of it. She had been hoping that Callie would go to Lena as she had done so on Friday; however, Callie had become just as avoidant with her wife.

"What the hell did you do to her?" Lena asked once the door to the ensuite had closed. She was furious, having just had an extremely tough time coaxing Callie into the bath and was certain her wife had something to do with it.

It was Sunday. Her daughter had managed to avoid her and a shower the day before and now, her hair was a crusty, matted heap atop her head. Though Lena had finally gotten Callie to acknowledge she needed help, she meekly refused entry to their bathroom, even when it was explained that the extendable shower head needed for the task was in there. Eventually, a promise of a bubble bath swayed her.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Stef shot back, immediately defensive. She had been folding laundry and had overheard the entire exchange between the two.

"You brought her into the bathroom on Friday, didn't you?" Lena accused.

"What? No! No I did not drag her off into the bathroom!" Stef whispered angrily, not wanting Callie to overhear their latest argument. "Why would I do something like that?"

"Well, what am I supposed to think, Stef? It's taken me over a day to get her in there to wash her hair and she was shaking the entire time! You had the audacity to hit our child—can you blame me for wondering what else you could be capable of?" She knew it was unfair, but she couldn't help but take out her hurt feelings on her wife. Since approaching her for comfort on Friday, Callie had distanced herself significantly from her.

"You know what! I don't have to listen to this crap!" Stef spat, grabbing her wallet from the dresser. She would go to work where she was appreciated.

Only now did she cringe at the memory of how she had reacted.

"Aren't you on the non-rotating schedule?" Mike asked, stopping by her desk.

"Yup. Just in for the afternoon to get organized," Stef replied. Not wanting to bring attention to the fact that she'd recently shed tears, she didn't want to speak more than she needed to keep her voice from betraying her.

"Safe's in the car. I'll drive it over after my shift."

"Great. Thanks," she said quietly, continuing to review the memo in her hands.

Mike cleared his throat, trying to break the ice. "So…why the need to switch all of a sudden?"

Stef peered at him over her glasses, deliberating how transparent she could be. It wasn't like he was a stranger to their challenges at home.

"Can we talk off the record?"

Mike could only shake his head as he learned of what had happened with Callie. Having witnessed the talking-to she had received, he thought that she would've thought twice about beaking off and acting up again—at least for a little while.

"I don't know, Stef," he sighed. "You guys have given her a ton of chances before it came to this."

He knew Lena well enough to understand why she was so upset but at the end of the day, he also knew that if Callie went back to juvie her future would be gone. It wasn't something he wanted to see happen.

"Going into your safe. Drugs. Running away. That's serious business, especially when her PO and Case Worker are already on her ass. She's gotta smarten up. Maybe a little fear of consequence will help her get there."

He thought carefully, trying to figure out what he wanted to say. "Look, I bet you anything that if you asked Callie if she wanted to go back into the system, she'd say no way, that she'd rather to stay with you guys. It's hard because she doesn't get the consequences of her behaviour so you kinda having to work under that assumption that she does want to stay out of real trouble. Punishment at home isn't really the real deal but she doesn't have understanding of that concept."

Stef nodded, knowing that she couldn't save Callie from those looming, legal consequences once she had gone too far. The only time they could help her fight them was now—by providing deterrents to make it harder for her to get to that point.

"Yeah. I'm with you there but she's got a history of abuse and neglect," she said, bringing attention to the fact that things were a little more complex with Callie. "Lena doesn't think she understands the difference between appropriate and unacceptable discipline based on whatever she's had to deal with before, and I have to agree. She just doesn't, Mike."

She sighed. Parenting was one of the most emotionally-rife things she had ever done. The constant teaching of right from wrong, and having to reinforce the concepts with consistency was exhausting. All of it was groundwork, laid in the hope of nurturing a gradual change in worldview. That one day, your children would decide to make choices based on internalized values—not solely to avoid consequences but because they're wanting to do the right thing.

Parenting a new child with a trauma history posed an extra challenge—it meant meeting all these needs without the safety net of a secure attachment and the history of a relationship to fall back on. So much time was devoted to erasing messages that their self-worth and love were contingent upon something external. The ones that no one had bothered to challenge on their behalf before they became internalized.

"Sure, she might not right now but she'll come around. You can't expect Cal to get it overnight. What you did doesn't even sound close to what we used to get growing up," he reminded, drawing upon their shared experiences. "From what I know, you two have explained and explained, much more than our parents ever did. You spend time with her, keeping tabs on her and helping her out—that's not neglectful or abusive. Deep down, I trust that she knows that you guys love her and I'm pretty sure she loves you back."

Stef agreed, though she wasn't quite sure she believed that Callie would come around.

"I don't think it was abusive, no…but it was still illegal," she said, addressing his earlier comment. "We just got the Adoption Day scheduled," she added, smiling at the progress before remembering it was over sixty days away. "If the Case Worker finds out, we'd lose her."

Mike frowned as he mentally reviewed the facts. His ex-wife was right; they could lose Callie if that happened, but it'd be unlikely to be because of how they had disciplined.

"Stef, you already know that removal only happens if there's an imminent threat to the wellbeing of a foster child. They just don't have enough Service Providers. They would recommend a parenting skills class and give you a hard time about not doing more to secure access to weapons in the home. That being said, for sure I wouldn't recommend doing the incident report."

"I already know that," Stef said in exasperation. She had outlined all this for Lena early that morning, well before their argument; however, her wife had had no intention of listening to her. As Mike had reiterated, they'd get off with a slap on the wrist.

It was Callie who would be worse off for it.

Filing an incident report for this would immediately open an investigation by the Department of Social Services to ensure their home was safe. She was comfortable disclosing that she had struck Callie, but it'd be impossible to do that without telling them why. Due to the felony on Callie's record, reporting that Callie had accessed her gun and had been in possession of marijuana again would automatically involve her Parole Officer. Things were already serious enough with the truancy and recent suspension that she was on their radar, and she didn't want to add to that.

"Well, what's the worry then?"

Stef drew in a long breath before letting it out. "Lena. She wants us to be transparent and file an incident report," she explained.

She put her hands in her head as she heard Mike say exactly what she wanted to. "Shit. That's messed up."

Indeed. Things could get even messier.

Stef was just about to open the storm door when Callie's frustrated words came through the window.

"Jude. I just said, it's times-ing. Not plus-sing."

The woman frowned; she and Lena had put a kibosh on Callie helping Jude with homework, precisely because of interactions such as this one and because it impeded her ability to get her own work done. Plus, it wasn't her job.

"Try again. What's four times two?"

"Uhm…six?" Jude replied nervously.

"No," Callie over-enunciated in annoyance. "Jude. That's plus-sing."

Stef stifled a laugh at how bossy the older girl could be with her brother—a side they knew existed but rarely saw.

"Uhm, it's kinda like…photocopying. Making two copies of four things," Callie struggled to illustrate the concept. "You're counting four, twice. So it's eight."

"Photocopying? I don't get it…" Jude said miserably. "Why can't I just ask Mama for help like I always do? She's a good explainer," he pointed out before stopping himself. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that," he mumbled.

"I know but don't you see her cleaning and doing all the stuff to help us for the week? And right now she's got a boatload of laundry," his sister informed him. "Don't you think she'd be so happy if she came back and you finished your problems?"

The cop smiled dotingly. Callie's heart was always in the right place and she was surprisingly attune to others around her.

"I'm trying. Honest," Jude whined tearfully. He hated it when Callie got impatient with him.

Though she knew she needed to step in soon, Stef held back, curious as to how Callie would handle this.

"C'mon Jujube, you love Lena don't you? And you want her to love you back, right?"

Through the window, Stef could make out Jude nodding enthusiastically. Callie's next words were like a blow to the stomach that left her choked.

"So you gotta keep being good and try not to bug her so much, otherwise she might not. She loves you so much 'cause you're easy, JuJee."

"Hi my babies!" Stef called, entering only after she had regained her composure. Tightly embracing Jude and Callie from behind in a double hug, she gave each a peck on the cheek. While the boy had giggled and leaned into her, his sister was clearly uncomfortable, stiffening by the unwanted contact.

"How are you two doing?" she asked cheerfully, trying to ignore her sadness at Callie's reaction.

"Good," they chorused.

The cop berated herself for starting a conversation with an open-ended question. Even at the best of times, it would always lead to a one-word answer, especially with the two of them. "Where's Mama?" she tried again.

"With a boatload of laundry," Jude parroted earnestly. He beamed at her, evidently quite proud of himself for remembering.

Stef tousled her youngest's hair fondly, causing him to laugh. It was extra soft and poofy; Lena must've washed it for him after she had done Callie's.

"I see, and what about your siblings?" She winked at Callie, trying to engage her in some way.

Her littlest informant piped up again. "Jesus is playing Little Big Planet."

"Is he now?" Stef raised an eyebrow, doubtful her middle son had completed all his homework. Still crouching between them, she shifted her weight so she could turn to Callie. "Is Mariana up in your room?"

"Yea—I mean yes. With Lexi," Callie answered politely. "They're painting their nails and it smelled…" Her shoulders had begun to hike and tense as soon as the attention had shifted towards her. The eraser end of her pencil was in her mouth and she was chewing nervously on the metal ring.

"Ah, I see, that's why you're down here. My smart girl. That stuff can't be good for you." Briefly able to catch her gaze, Stef smiled warmly at her. However, her effort to show that she wasn't a threat only caused Callie to shrink from the unwanted eye contact. From the way the yeah had been nixed from the answer, Stef could see that Callie was trying to be on her best behaviour. Trying not to make her upset.

It killed her that her child was afraid of her.

"What are you two working on?" Stef questioned, wanting to give the girl a chance to relax.

"Times-ing," Jude said miserably before catching himself. "But it's going well because Callie's helping me," he said brightly.

"Let me see." She scrutinized the worksheet over his shoulder, not questioning his ambivalence so they wouldn't catch onto the fact that she had overheard their earlier conversation. "Hmm. I think I know exactly what you need."

Jude's interest piqued at hearing about the prospect of alleviating his math woes. "What?"

"You'll find out soon enough." She winked at him, not wanting to give away too much solely so she could take joy in seeing his curiosity and hopefulness. Like his sister, Jude's demeanour almost always gave away his true feelings.

Stef was convinced that if Jude could learn his multiplication tables it would be easier, but curricula had changed in the decades since she'd been in school. Education was now focused on understanding rather than rote learning, so she needed something to make the concept more tangible.

"Thanks for helping out, Callie girl. Mama was home alone today and I bet she appreciated having an extra set of hands," Stef praised. She tapped on the disorganized-looking binder in front of the girl. "But don't forget to focus on what you need to do, too."

Callie looked down guiltily. Lena had helped her get started on getting things into their sections before she had gone upstairs but she had forgotten that she was supposed to keep working on it.

"It's alright, we all need a reminder sometimes," Stef reassured when she noticed Callie deflate. "I'll give you a hand before dinner, okay?"

Callie hesitated before nodding. "Yes please." She felt kinda bad for going back on what she had just told Jude not to do—ask for too much help. But she also didn't want Lena to be upset with her at finding out she hadn't done what she'd been told to do.

Hearing Mike at the door, Stef gave her daughter's shoulder a quick squeeze before standing to let him in. She regretted letting the storm door slam behind them when both of the kids jumped.

"Hey kids!" Mike said, puffing from the weight of the heavy unit.

Stef hid her amusement. She could already anticipate his chagrin at agreeing to swap his fancy new gun safe without first looking at what he was actually trading it for. Her's was much older and much more basic.

"The island's fine. Jude, why don't you come with me? We'll ask Mama where B's old Lego," she said, wanting to give Mike a moment alone with Callie. She had asked him to apologize—not only because it was the right thing to do, but because she wanted to create a repertoire of positive experiences Callie would have with the police.

"Come on. This is for your homework. You're allowed to have fun while doing it, you know," Stef pointed out, sensing his hesitation over breaking their rule of finishing work before playing.

Jude could barely hold in his excitement as he flew out of his chair. He'd never gotten to play with Lego before and could not wait. "Okay!"

"Ah—ah—AH! Your worksheet, young man!" Stef called, waving the green duo-tang after him as he ran up the stairs shouting for her wife.

"Mama! MAMA!"

"Split Pea!" Mike half-hollered as he remembered that he was supposed to talk with Callie. "That's right, you heard me," he said, seeing the girl scrunch up her nose at the newest nickname he'd come up with for her. "It's Split Pea because you can run fast. I gotta be careful around you from now on," he wisecracked. Realizing he was fading and that it was almost three-thirty, he decided to brew a pot of coffee.

Callie watched dejectedly as he rinsed out the carafe, wondering if he was mad at her, too. Mike was like family but he didn't normally cook in their kitchen.

"Thanks," she said when he set a glass of milk in front of her, along with a jalapeño cheese bun he'd zapped in the microwave. When the machine finally beeped, he poured himself a mug and sat down.

"Heard you're on a bit of a lockdown. Stef tells me you've had a rough couple of days."

"Yeah…" she said quietly, ashamed that Mike knew she'd gotten in trouble. "I was dumb."

"No, no. You're not dumb, Cal. Messing up—everyone messes up. It's just a part of growing up. Even adults—Stef, Lena, me, your teachers—do things we regret all the time. The important thing is trying to learn from them so they don't happen again." He felt for her. Stef and Lena were tough but he knew both of them loved the kids fiercely and were fair.

"Hey. I, uh, didn't get a chance to apologize on Friday. I'm sorry for chasing you down the way I did. I wanted to see you get home and didn't have a choice when you bolted," Mike explained, hoping he hadn't spooked her too badly.

Callie shrugged. "It's okay."

"I didn't wrench your arm or anything like that when I grabbed you? Does your arm hurt anywhere?" Relief washed over him when the young girl shook her head.

"I'm guessing Stef already talked to you about running from the cops. Never a good idea," he reminded as he'd been asked to. It was one of his ex-wife's greatest fears for Callie. That in a moment of panic, she wouldn't recognize the danger of resisting or running from a cop like she had done with him—and would risk being subjected to excessive force as a result.

"Chin up, it'll be over before you know it," Mike consoled, puzzled when Callie shook her head sadly at him. Stef hadn't told him that her restrictions didn't have an end-date.

He nodded towards the milk which she had barely touched. "Here. Finish up. Girls need calcium for their bones."

"O—kay," Callie agreed before realizing that made no sense to her. "Why?" she asked carefully as she picked out some of the jalapeños in the cheesy bread. "Boys have bones." She laughed when the cop struggled to answer her question, entertained by the idea that she had caught him BS-ing her. She popped a pepper in her mouth before realizing they were too spicy even for her.

"Hey—slow down!" he exclaimed as Callie guzzled her drink, coughing up milk while she continued to laugh. "My CPR is almost up for renewal—I'm out of practice!" This kid was gonna get his goose cooked.

From the stairwell, Stef had overhead most of their interaction. She had left Jude upstairs, working away on his worksheet after showing him the concept of multiplication with the plastic bricks. As much as she wanted to go down, she stopped herself. Callie sounded so relaxed, and hearing her open up after two days of silence was wonderful—but she couldn't help but feel hurt that it was her ex-husband that her daughter felt comfortable around.

Stef tapped the Presidents of the USA worksheet in the middle of the math section. "This is the most interesting math I've ever seen. Where does this belong?"

"Oh. History." Callie opened the D-rings and replaced it in front of the divider so it was now under the correct subject.

The cop had never been so grateful for Sunday binder organization activities. They were fifteen minutes in and though her daughter still looked on edge, she was already talking a bit more even though it was only to answer questions. Determined not to let Callie retreat any further from her than she already had, the cop was prepared to sit here all night if she had to.

"What do you have coming up that's due this week?" the woman asked, sliding Callie's agenda towards her. She and Lena had been encouraging her to write down, in calendar format, when assignments were due to cut down on late submissions. Though Callie found the coursework hard, her marks were strong. More often than not, it was her lack of organization that lead to points being docked for work that was handed in late or missed altogether.

"Uhm…the rest of the Bridge to Terabithia questions and the chapter vocab questions. Geography, the section on latitude and longitude…and Math…prob—lems?" Callie trailed off, having difficulty making out her own writing.

"Math problems," she repeated confidently, hoping she wouldn't irritate her foster mother. She liked her old way of doing things as she remembered better; it seemed that the more Stef and Lena told her to use the calendar and label the tabs in her binder, the more muddled she felt.

Stef leaned over, squinting at the girl's writing. "Ah." Flipping through the stack of papers she'd taken from the binder's burgeoning vinyl pocket, she handed over the worksheets on probabilities. "Are these the elusive math problems you might have been referring to?" She smiled, noticing the girl brighten a little at the mystery being solved.

"Thanks," Callie mumbled, somewhat embarrassed.

While she worked on getting it into the right section, Stef went through the rest of the pile. Finding the writeup she and Lena had assigned, she skimmed it, pleasantly surprised at how nicely it'd come along since the last time she had checked. The content was less superficial—showing that she had taken it more seriously, which Stef hoped was reflective of Callie's increased accountability for her actions.

Taking a pen, she wrote ACTION PLAN in the blank space below before turning the page towards Callie. "Three points—what you'll do next time you want to smoke pot—and you're done."

Her daughter looked up at her in relief. "Really?"

"Sure thing. You've done a fine job. Let's finish it now," she suggested, knowing Callie had a busy week ahead of her and not wanting any of this hanging over her. "These are mine, too," she said, setting aside the lines she found underneath.

"I—it's not done," came a small voice.

"It's done. We talked about it already," Stef insisted. "Thank you for being conscientious about what Mama and I asked you to do. I'm proud of you, my love," she praised.

"Looking forward to going back to school tomorrow?"

"I guess," Callie replied uneasily. She had been excited to have some space again until she remembered how Lena had called for her over the PA. Between that and living with four other kids who attended Anchor Beach, there was a good chance everyone knew she'd gotten suspended. Rubbing her clammy hands on her tights, she looked away, uncomfortable at being alone with the cop.

"Your excitement is leaving something to be desired, baby. I'm sure you're happy to not be cooped up in this house, no?" Stef said playfully, trying to cheer her up. She hadn't missed the sudden change in Callie's expression as her eyes fell on Mike's safe which sat on the counter. Whereas initially she had eyed it curiously, this time, her face fell in dismay. As if realization of what had taken place had just dawned on her.

"Love?" she called gently, ducking her head to try to catch Callie's gaze. "Please talk to me, sweetness. What's going on in that beautiful head of your's?" she tried again when her daughter only hung her head and remained silent.

Callie could only shake her head as she furiously blinked back her tears, suddenly feeling ashamed. Never once had she thought the safe would need replacing all because she'd opened it. The swap was a reminder that she had done something she couldn't take back—that there was absolutely nothing she could do to fix things. Not only had she disappointed Stef but she had lost her trust, and earning it back seemed hopeless. She might not even be able to get it all back. That was how badly she'd screwed up.

"Give it a try even if you think you can't find the words," Stef encouraged.

"It's all my fault," Callie finally uttered sadly. "I made you change your safe."

The woman smiled painfully, understanding what this was all about. She was proud that Callie had had her moment when she saw the repercussions of her actions. At the same time she was sad on her daughter's behalf for having to learn such a tough lesson and knew that Callie needed kindness.

"I'm sorry, Bug," Stef apologized. "It needed to happen. Once the code is known by anyone other than the owner, it's not much good anymore, is it? Nothing's wasted. I actually think I might be coming out ahead. Did you see how nice Mike's is in comparison to the crappy one he's getting now?" she said, getting a tiny smirk from the girl.

She paused, wanting to be thoughtful with her words when it was clear Callie wouldn't say anything. "It wasn't meant to rub it in that you made some decisions I would've much rather you hadn't."

Her heart ached at seeing Callie flinch when she went to brush the flyaway curls away from the girl's face. She ignored it, determined to show Callie that she was safe and loved. Hugging the girl tightly to her side once more, she kissed her on the temple.

"Trust is earned, my baby. That means you'll get it back. You already are," she said, the message as much for her own reassurance as it was for Callie.

A/N: What is Lena thinking?