Amy POV

"Hey, mom!" I said in the phone as I walked up to one of the windows in the kitchen that overlooked the small back porch. With my fingers pryed open the blinds so that I could see better.

Callie and the social worker were sitting at the small table that was out on the back porch. They were talking about me, whether or not I am capable of taking care of Callie or if Callie should be taken away from me. The social worker scribbled something in the paper every time Callie answered a question. And every time the social worker scribbled something in the paper, Callie's averted her look to that paper.

Compared to the beginning of the interview, when Callie looked nervous and scared, she now looked agitated and frustrated with the social worker. It seemed like Callie could snap at her any moment.

"Hello, darling," Mom replied "You sounded upset. Is everything okay?"

"No," I admited as I backed away from the window

"What's the matter, Aims?"

I started to pace around the kitchen. My left hand was up to my forehead, rubbing it, while I spoke to mom "A social worked stopped by our house today!"

"A social worker!?" mom exclaimed out loudly

"Mm-hmm," I hummed back "Actually, she's still here," I added and briefly averted my gaze to the window, that I was looking out of couple of seconds ago

"Harold, come over here! It's Amy!" Mom called out to dad, who was probably lounged in his armchair reading about, how to restore old furniture back to it's old glory "I will put you on the speaker," Mom told me a moment later

"Hey, Aims! Miss us already?" Dad joked

"Harold!" mom chastised dad, she probably slapped his upper arm lighty as well "This is important! A social worked is at her house!" Mom quickly let dad in on what was happening

"What? Why?" Dad asked shocked "Did something happen?"

"You already know what happened, dad!" I sighed shaking my head "Aaron and Markus died. And now the Social Services are worried that I am no longer capable and suitable for taking care of Callie! That her needs are not being taken care of or that I am neglecting her, because of my….grief. Basically they think that I am no longer fit to be a foster parent," I explaine d to them

"That's absolute bullshit!" Dad voiced his opinion loudly

"Wait! Is Callie still with you?" Mom asked, her voice full of concern "They didn't take her away from you, did they?"

I felt the need to check on Callie again, making sure she's still there. So, I walked back to the window and open the blinds a bit more, so I could again look out to Callie. When I saw her sitting there, I calmed myself down.

"No, she's still here. But the social worker has been talking to Callie for the last -" I took my left hand away from teh blinds and looked at my watch on the wrist " - last 30 minutes or so! It's taking so long. I hate that I don't know what she is asking Callie and what Callie is telling her! It's driving me crazy!"

I turned away from the window and walked back to the table "I promised her that she won't go anywhere," I said slumping down at one of the kitchen chairs "What if they take her from me? What am I going to do then, mom?" I cover my mouth with my free hand

The house was already quiet as it was. Without Callie, I will be completely alone. The thought scared me. I didn't want to be alone and I didn't want to lose her! She's the reason I get up in the mornings. She's the reason I do anything, actually. Without her – my life is completely empty.

"Aims - it not going to happen! You have to think positive!" Mom tried to console me "Callie is not going anywhere. And you will keep the promise you made to her!"

"That's the problem, mom! It's not really up to me at this point!" I threw my free hand in the air, expressing my frustration "The CPS can decide that I am not longer fit to take care of her and just take her away! I have no say at all in this! "

"We all know that Callie is not in any danger in your care, Aims. We know you take good care of her!" Dad spoke up "She is well fed, dressed, her basic needs are well taken care of. The house is clean. She attends school every day and she also has after class activities. The girl is not out drinking, smoking or going to parties to hang out with questionable crowd! And you don't endanger her life at home. I don't see any reasons for them to take her away from you!" Dad paused for a little bit "While you are still grieving, your grief in no way affects Callie negatively. Callie isn't being abused or neglected by you. There is no need for you to worry about it!"

"Thanks! I needed to-" I paused in the middle of my sentence, when I heard Callie's voice coming from the outside "Why are you not listening to me? Why do you people never listen!?" She sounded distraught and frustrated

"Uh-oh...this is not good," I mumbled to myself as I got up from the chair

"What is happening?" Dad asked as I walked towards the window "Is that Callie, who we heard in background?" Mom added the next moment

"Trust you?" I heard Callie ask in disbelief "I'm never going to trust you!" I heard a chair being pushed back "And if you had been listening to what I have been saying to you, you would no longer be here! You would have left already and you would have left us alone!" I heard Callie shout out. When I looked out the kitchen window I saw Callie storming towards the back doors

"Crap! I need to go!" I told my parents quickly

"Call us!" Mom managed to call out to me, before I ended the phone call right as the doors slammed open

Callie POV

I have been sitting out here, on the porch, with this social worker for what feels like hours. It was probably closer to 30 minutes or something. She just keep asking me question after question, after question. It's like she has a never-ending list of them in her mind.

The worst thing about this interview, is that the social worker scribbles something down in her notes every time I open her mouth. It's not a nice feeling. In fact, it makes me worry that I maight have said something wrong that could jepordize my stay here. It feels a little bit like I'm digging my own grave or something. Amy's grave as well. Some of hte questions she asked me, sounded a little bit like accusations towards Amy. Those I hated the most.

10 minutes ago I finished telling her about my daily routine in workdays and how Amy is involved in it. After that followed tenths of questions about it.

"Does Amy pick to you up from school or do you walk home?" the social worked asked me after she finished writing something down in her notes after my previous answer

"Did you not get that from the part, where I said that Amy picks me after my school or music school?" I replied with a hit of attitude. I was starting to get sick and tiered of her questions, her judgmental looks, her making notes about everything I say, her tone.

The woman smiled at me and apologized "Sorry, about that," she looked down to her notes and put her pen to a line "Yes, I had that written down," Her smile did not seem genuine. Looked kind of forced and fake. It didn't reach her eyes.

"Has she ever been late to pick you up?" she asked next

I shifted lightly in my seat and swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat after that question "No," I lied to her, looking her right in the eyes

The woman watched me carefully for a moment, until she finally averted her look down to the paper that was in front of her, and scribbled something down. Again!

"Why does that even matter?" I asked her back, my frustration had reached its top

Amy is actually the only foster parent, who has ever picked me up from school or taken me to school for that matter. No one else ever bothered. It was an inconviniece to them - waste of their precious time, spending money on gass for car, the shool was never close or in way from or to work. The questions bothered me so much because, apperantly, Amy can be seen as bad parent, because she was late to pick me up once, while other foster parents would never get in trouble for that. I don't see how that's fair!

Mrs. Fields looked up to me and stopped writing. She straightened her back a little before she replied "Well, if she has even been late or has forgotten to pick you up from school, after class actives, friend's house, movies or other events, that can be seen as a sign for neglect or more specifically – inadequate supervision," She placed her hands in her lap "Do you want to change your answer, Callie?"

The thought about ratting out Amy didn't even cross my mind once. All I thought about was protecting Amy, because she does not deserve this -to be seen as someone who neglects foster kids. In fact, she's the only one of my foster parents, who hasn't abused or neglected me. She's the only one that has treated me like another equal human being and not some poor foster kid.

And the woman, who sat in front of me, was desperately trying to find the smallest detail she could use as a reason to take me away from Amy. In a way, it felt like she was out to ruin Amy. In the process, to also take me away from the first home that I finally feel safe in. This was wrong on so many levels. Amy, who has been nothing but nice, is on a stand, but my other foster parents, who had abused and neglect me, have never been questioned and their homes were never inspected. This was just another proof that the system is screwed up.

"This is stupid!" I blured out angrily

She tilted her head to one side a little "Why do you feel that way?"

"Why do you want to so desperately find a reason to take me out of Amy's care?" I questioned right back

"We are worried about your foster moms capability of taking care of you after the tragedy that occurred a month ago," Mrs. Fields replied to me in calm manner "We are worried that she's not taking good enough care about you,"

"You have never seem to be worried about my other foster parents not taking good enough care about me or them actually abusing and neglecting me. I had about 6 foster homes, from which I needed to be saved from. But did you ever cared about me then?" I detained a little pause "No, you didn't! There was no sign of you people, when I actually needed you!"

"Callie," She placed her hand flat on the file that was placed on the table in front of her "I'm not here to discuss your previous foster homes,"

"Of course you aren't," I muttered shaking my head slowly

"I'm trying to do what's best for you, Callie!"

"Best for me?" I laughed back "Are you serious?" I asked in disbelief

I leaned closer to her and gestured to the house "Do you honestly think, that taking me away from the only home, where I haven't been abused or neglected, where I actually feel safe - is best for me?"

Mrs. Fields leaned back in the chair, placed her arms in her lap and watched me carefully. She tilted her head a little to one side and then asked "Why did that question upset you so much?" Mrs. Fields changed the subject back to the question that started all this mess

"I'm not upset," I retorted

"You seem upset to me," She said and leaned a bit closer to me "It makes me think that Amy has been late to pick you up,"

"Why are you not listening to me!?" I asked back in desperate manner "Why do you people never listen?"

"I'm here," she placed her hand over her heart "I'm listening! You can tell me if something is going on. I'm here to help you. You can trust me, Callie!"

"Trust you?" I shook my head "I'm never going to trust you!" I pushed my chair back and stood up "And if you had been listening to what I have been saying to you, you would no longer be here! You would have left already and you would have left us alone!" I stated loudly as I pushed my chair back

I stormed towards the back doors. All I wanted was to get further away from this woman. Once the doors were open, I pushed them open much harder then I should have. The doors banged at the side of the wall. Without stopping, I stormed towards the stairs and skipping every other step, I made my way up the stairs.

When I was in my room, I slammed the doors shut. Finally, I could breath calmly. I was safe in my room. Finally, I didn't have to see that woman's face, hear her stupid questions.

I exhaled deeply as I turned my back to the doors.

I leaned back at the doors and slowly slid down, till I was sitting on the floor.

As I listened closely, I could hear Amy talking to Mrs. Fields downstairs. She was probably trying to sooth out the mess I made just now

I pulled my knees up. Pressed my elbows to my knees. Closing my eyes, I placed my hands over my mouth and nose.

I leant my head back at the doors and breathed out "Fuck!"

Amy POV

When I walked up the stairs, I found Callie's bedroom doors close. Not a single sound was coming from the room. It got me a little bit worried. I had half expected to find Callie trying to pack her bag, because of how the visit ended with the social worker.

I took another step closer to the doors "Callie?" I asked quietly, yet loud enough for the girl to hear me even if she was under the covers or in the furthers corner in the room

I hadn't expected to hear a small sniff coming right from the other side of the doors "Is she gone?" It sounded like she was sitting on the floor by the doors

I tilted my head down "Yes, she is gone. For now," I replied as I sat down on the floor by the doors. My back was against the doors, my legs stretched out, hands in my lap. Once I had sat down, I breathed out deeply.

"Is she coming back to take me away?" Callie asked me, once I had sat down and gotten comfortable on the hard wood floor

"I hope not," I said without missing a beat. The last thing I wanted was for Callie to think that I don't want her.

I turned my head, so that I would see the doors in the corner of my eye and added "I don't want you to leave, Callie. I really don't!" The thought alone about Callie leaving made me tear up

There was a long silence afterward. I turned my head and tilted it down, to look at my hands in my lap.

"I don't want to leave," came a small voice from the other side. I raised my head up as a smile appeared on my lips for the first time since the tragic day.

When I heard her moving, I leaned off the doors. Right when I looked over my shoulder to the doors, they parted a little bit. Through the little gap, I saw how Callie scooted away from the doors. She was still sitting on the ground, but now her back was against the wall not the doors.

I crawled in the room and sat down next to Callie, close enough for our upper arms to touch.

I glanced down to the young girl by my side. She looked so small and scared. Callie was picking her fingernails. Her gaze down to her lap. I noticed the tear strained cheeks. She was crying.

"I'm going to do everything possible so that you don't have to!" I vowed to her in a non-nonsense tone as I looked down at the young girl

Callie didn't respond verbally. But she did look up to me. I saw hope in her eyes. She watched me for couple of seconds. Then she did something, that I could have only dreamed about before. She sought comfort in me.

Callie lowered her head down to my right shoulder.

I kissed the top of her head and lowered my head down to hers.