Chapter 17.

Callie

"Hey Soph, maybe you should wear something different today," I said the next the next morning, as we were getting dressed for school. Sophia had just put on a navy blue t-shirt.

"But I like this," she frowned. "Why? What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing," I said. "It's just that today's an important day." Chewing my lip thoughtfully, I looked through her closet. I settled on the pink flowered top she'd bought on our first shopping trip. "Wear this shirt. It's pretty." I tossed it to her, and she caught it.

"I guess I could..." she said. She shed her shirt and pulled the new one over her head. The rosy color and the soft flowers brought out her pink cheeks and sparkling brown eyes. And the little bit of lace only made her look sweeter.

"And let me do your hair?" I offered, grabbing her brush.

"Okay."

I sat her in front of me and brushed out her chestnut waves. Once they were smooth and glossy down her back, I parted her hair down the middle and braided each side. I tied them off with pink elastics to match her shirt. "There you go."

She studied herself in the mirror. "I know what you're trying to do. You're trying to make look cute."

"Okay," I sighed. "I am. But it wasn't hard. You're already adorable," I added, pinching her cheek. "Look," I whispered, "I just thought that it wouldn't hurt to play up your natural cuteness for the therapist. There's nothing wrong with that, is there?" My plan had come out of nowhere, but I knew it was good. No way did Sophia look like a criminal. Not by any stretch of the imagination.

"I guess not," she said, fingering the lace on her shirt. "I do like this top. But... maybe you should look cuter too?"

"Me?" I laughed.

She nodded. "Sure." She hopped up and went to the closet, producing a shirt Stef had bought me. It was dark red with panda bears printed all over it. I hadn't worn it yet. It still had the tag on it.

"Okay," I said, tearing off the tag and putting it on. I looked at my reflection. I had to admit that the shirt was perfect.

"And your hair..." she said. She took the spot behind me and started brushing my hair out. She gathered it into two pigtails.

"No way," I said, shaking my head. "Sorry."

"I was just kidding," she giggled. It was strange how relaxed and happy she seemed that morning. I wondered if that would change later on when our situation finally sunk in.

Her brushing my hair felt good, and relaxed my jangled nerves a little. She left it down and wavy, which was fine by me. "I hope I look just like you when I'm older," she told me. "You're so pretty, Callie."

"I'm not any prettier than you," I said. "We look just alike." If I was a little younger, or she was a little older, we really could pass for twins.

She put her face next to mine, and we looked in the mirror. "My nose is a little different," she decided. "And you have that little scar on your forehead."

Mariana knocked on the door frame, and we turned to her. "Mom wants you guys to come downstairs," she told us. "She wants to say goodbye to you before she goes to work."

"Okay," I said. I turned back to my sister. "You ready?"

"Yup." She slid off the bed, and we followed our foster sister to the kitchen.

"There you are, girls," Stef said when she saw us. "Come here. I want to talk to you." We stood in front of her, and she took our hands. "Listen. I have to work today, so I won't be able to be there for your appointment. But even though I can't physically be there, my heart will be with you. I'll be thinking about you all day, okay?"

"Okay," I said.

"Okay," said Sophia.

"Lena will be there," she promised us. "And I'll be here when you get home. I don't want you to worry. Everything will work out."

I hoped she was right.

"I love you." She kissed Sophia. "And I love you." She kissed me. "Good luck, my babies," she smiled. She gave each of us a tight hug, then she left for work.

Stef

It was mid-morning, and Mike and I were parked inconspicuously in a vacant lot, watching traffic. It was a slow day. I was telling him about Callie and Sophia, about their therapy appointment later that afternoon.

He listened politely, not taking his eyes off the road.

"Would you be willing to testify?" I asked him. "I mean, if it comes to that." I hoped it wouldn't, but there was always a chance that it would.

"I guess so," he said. "Yeah. I don't know how much good I'd do, though."

"Well," I said. "What do you remember about that night, Mike? Anything that won't incriminate the girls."

He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking over my question.

"Try to remember details," I pressed. "Any little thing could be important. Who called 911?"

He opened his eyes and rubbed his chin. "I think it was the next door neighbor," he finally said. "I kinda remember that. They called because they heard screaming and a gunshot."

"Screaming and then a gunshot?" I asked, my heart fluttering with hope.

"Yeah," he nodded. "I guess so."

"That's good," I said. That there was screaming before the shot was fired implied that there was a struggle happening beforehand. I wondered if the neighbor who called was still around, and if he or she would have any worthwhile information. I made a mental note that that was something to look into.

"Anything else?" I asked Mike. "How did the girls look?"

"Shocked," he stated. "They looked like they were in shock. The older one had blood all over her. They were huddled in the corner, clinging to each other, crying. The little girl was still holding the gun. She wouldn't talk to no one. All she'd say was, 'I killed him, I killed him'."

"Do you remember any beat marks on Callie?" I persisted.

He pursed his lips. "There might have been. I was just called in for back-up. We were mainly focused on the foster father, Stef. I don't remember every detail."

"Oh." I frowned with disappointment.

"Stef, are you sure you should be getting so invested in these kids?" he asked me.

"Yes, I am," I told him. "I'm positive that I should, because Lena and I are planning to adopt them."

"You are?" he asked, obviously surprised.

"Yes," I said. "They've become very special to us. We love them very much."

He shrugged. "It's just... something about that night never felt right to me. I got the feeling those girls were lying about something. But hey, it's your life."

"Well, there's a lot to the story that you don't know," I told him, torn between defending my girls and protecting their secrets. I finally settled on telling him the truth; we told each other pretty much everything, anyway. In fact, we communicated better now than we did when we were married. "You're instincts were right," I began. "The girls were hiding something. And what happened wasn't an accident."

I told him the whole story about the night Brian was shot, and when I was finished, he whistled and shook his head. "Wow."

"I know."

"Why didn't they say something then?" he asked. "Someone could have helped them."

"They were just scared," I said. "Sophia only shot the guy to stop him from hurting her big sister. They were afraid she would be taken away and they'd be separated. They don't deserve to be punished for what they did."

He nodded solemnly. "You know, maybe I do remember something else."

"What?" I asked. "What is it?"

"Their phone was broken," he said. "The wires pulled a big chunk out of the wall, and the plaster was on the floor."

I smiled with satisfaction. Just then, a car sped past us. Mike turned the lights on our cruiser. "Finally. Some action."

Callie

After school, Sophia and I met Lena, and she took us to our appointment. "Take a seat, girls," she said. "I'll check you in."

"Okay," I said. I turned to my sister. "Come on. Let's sit over there." We went to some blue chairs on the other side of the waiting room. I sat down, and Sophia sat next to me, snuggling into my side.

I put my arms around her, and stroked her back. I could tell she was nervous. So nervous. Her face was pale and her hands were shaking. I felt like I had rocks in my stomach, myself. "You know," I whispered, "it's not too late to change your mind."

She glanced up at me and shook her head. "No. We have to do this."

I nodded a little, then untangled myself from her. I reached behind my neck and unclasped my necklace. "Do you want to borrow this?"

She gave me a surprised look. "Really?"

"Really. It'll make you braver." I draped it around her neck and clasped it, then straightened the pendant.

Sophia touched the gold coin and smiled proudly. "Thanks, sissy."

"You have to give it back, though," I reminded her, feeling a little naked without it. When our mom died, the morgue sent us an envelope of her belongings. There wasn't much, but the necklace was in it. I put it on, and I've hardly taken it off since. Sophia had mom's lipstick. She kept it in her treasure box. Those two things were all we had left of her.

"I know," she said, leaning back against me, still holding the coin.

"All set, girls," Lena said, coming over to us. Sophia shrank against me even tighter.

"What's the matter, sweetie?" our foster mom asked, looking down at my sister. "Are you feeling a little nervous?"

Sophia nodded sullenly, and Lena gently massaged her back. "I don't want you to worry, baby. Neither of you. I'm going into your appointment with you. I won't leave you alone for a minute."

Sophia looked up. "Promise?"

"I promise," she said.

I jumped when the waiting room door opened. A small, Asian woman called our names. She was smiling, which I took as a good sign. "Right here," said Lena, standing up. She looked back at us. "You ready?"

I stood up; my feet felt like lead, and I fidgeted between us, looking for Sophia's hand. When I found it, I squeezed it to comfort her. And then we followed Lena to the door together.

"It's nice to meet you, girls," said the therapist. "I'm Dr. Kodema."

"Hi," I mumbled.

"Come on back to my office," she said, "and we'll get to know each other."

Her office was neat as a pin, but above the desk were lots of pictures kids had colored for her. We sat down on an overstuffed couch. I jiggled my leg with nervous energy. Finally, Lena put her hand over my knee to keep me still.

For the first twenty minutes, nothing happened. Dr. Kodema asked us about our medical history, any medications we took, and assessed our risk for suicide. I began to relax a little.

"Whatever you say in here will be kept confidential," she told us. "That means that I will not tell anyone what we talk about in here, unless I believe you're in some kind of danger, or might hurt yourself or others. Do you have any questions?"

We shook our heads. We'd been through the same song and dance with the therapist at the children's home.

"Your foster mother tells me you girls have been in foster care for a while," the woman went on. "And that you've had some hard times recently. Do you want to tell me about it?"

Sophia glanced up at me frantically. But luckily, Lena spoke first. "These girls have been through a horrible ordeal," she explained. "It's been hard for them to talk about it with anyone."

"I understand," said Dr. Kodema. Her voice was calm and sympathetic. "I'm listening."

After our appointment, I went straight to our room. Our story was out, and my stomach hurt. I flopped on my bed and stared at the wall, wondering when the authorities would come for us.

"Callie?"

I sighed and looked back. Stef was standing there. "Hi, baby," she said.

"Hi," I nodded.

"How was your appointment?" she asked me. "Did you like Dr. Kodema?"

"She was okay," I replied.

"Honey, I know you probably want to be alone right now," she told me. "But could you please come downstairs?"

I sucked in my breath, panicked. "Why?" I asked suspiciously.

"We're going to be having a family meeting," she explained. "And we can't have it without you."

"Oh. Okay," I said, rolling out of bed.

Stef guided me to the couch, next to my sister, and then she sat down next to Lena. Brandon and the twins were sitting there too, and nobody was arguing or joking around. What was going on? I prepared myself for bad news.

"Callie, Sophia," said Lena. "We wanted to ask you something. You've been living with us for some time now, and we were wondering how you would feel about making things more permanent."

"You mean... you want to adopt us?" Sophia asked, perking up.

Stef nodded, grinning. "We love you both very much. You've become part of this family. You deserve a home, and we want it to be ours. What do you say to officially becoming our daughters?"

Sophia shot up off the couch and jumped up and down. "I knew it! I knew it!"

"I'll take that as a yes," Lena laughed, hugging her.

"How about you, love?" Stef asked, moving over to the couch to sit next to me.

"I- I don't know what to say," I stammered. I just couldn't believe it. It didn't feel real.

"Say yes," she said, planting a kiss on the side of my head.

I looked up at my sister, who was in tears, and then at the other kids. "Is it okay with you guys?"

"Yes," they nodded.

I looked back to Stef and smiled. "Then... yes."

"Yay!" she cried. "They said yes!" She and Lena grabbed Sophia and I up in a sort of group hug. And even though it had been a hard day, I couldn't help but feel happy.

As we were being bombarded by hugs and kisses, Sophia whispered to me, "I knew my wish would come true."

To Be Continued