Chapter 23. (warning: this chapter contains some descriptions of abuse)

Stef

Lindsey agreed to meet with us the next day. After I got off the phone with her, I went to find Callie and Sophia. "How would you two like to take a little road trip with me tomorrow?" I asked. I figured that if Lindsey could see their faces, the sadness in their eyes, she might be more compelled to speak up for them. I knew I would.

So, in the morning, the three of us drove to Lindsey's home. As we headed up her front walk, the blondest little girl I'd ever seen watching us through the screen door. She waved to us excitedly as I rang the bell.

Seconds later, Lindsey scooped her up in her arms and opened the door for us. "You must be Stef? I'm Lindsey."

I nodded. "Yes, nice to meet you."

"Come on in," she said. She adjusted the toddler on her hip. "This is Gracie."

"Hi Gracie," I smiled. "Aren't you a pretty girl?" Gracie smiled, wriggling free from her mom's grasp. "This is Callie, and Sophia," I said, introducing her to each of the girls.

"Hi," she said, a sad smile creeping onto her freckled face. She turned back to me. "Um, I'd like to talk to you in private, if that's okay?" She glanced back at the girls nervously.

"Of course," I said. "I understand.

"Maybe Callie and Sophia could take Gracie out to the back yard to play?" she offered. "Is that alright?"

"It's fine," I nodded. "Okay with you, girls?"

They nodded. "Yay, I love babies!" Sophia grinned, taking Gracie's chubby hand. Gracie led her and Callie out the back door to a swing set.

Lindsey sat down and I joined her. She picked at her nails nervously. "I can't help but ask," she said, with a small, nervous laugh. "Who the hell in their right mind would give my dad kids?"

"I don't know," I said quietly. I still hadn't told her that Brian was dead. I didn't have the heart to do it over the phone. I knew it was inevitable, though. However, I couldn't help but worry. I had no idea how Lindsey would react. If she knew how he died, would she still help us?

"I have some news for you," I told her. I looked past her shoulder toward the back door. Sophia was pushing Gracie on a baby swing. Callie was sitting on the edge of a sandbox, watching the house wistfully, probably wishing she were a fly on the wall. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this," I said, "but your father passed away recently."

Lindsey blinked, her pale lashes fanning her expressionless face. "I don't know what to say," she said. "I just... oh my gosh. How? What happened?"

"He was shot," I told her, holding back the details.

Lindsey ran her hands over her face. When she took them away, there were tears in her eyes.

"I'm so sorry," I said, reaching out to lay my hand on her shoulder, rubbing it gently.

She nodded. "I just feel like a huge weight's been lifted off my shoulders," she said quietly. "I know I should be crying because he was my dad, and he's dead. But I'm crying because I finally feel free. Is that terrible of me?"

"No," I told her. "Everyone processes their feelings differently. And I know that you didn't have the best relationship with him."

"I suppose you want me to tell you about him?" she asked, wiping her tears. "About the abuse."

"Take your time," I said. "There's no rush."

She sucked in a gush of breath. "I'm ready. I want to talk about this." She balled a tissue in her hand, and took a few more shaky breaths. "I need to talk about this."

"I'll listen," I assured her.

She nodded. "My dad started coming into my room at night when I was five years old," she said. "I'd wake up, and he'd be touching me. It... it got worse over time." She looked down, quiet for a long moment.

"He told me never to tell my mother," she continued. "He said if I told anyone, the government people would take me away. One day, I remember thinking, would that really be such a bad thing? At least, I'd be away from him. So, I told my mom. She said I was lying. She slapped me across the face. That was the only time she'd ever hit me. I think she was just afraid to do anything. Then, she went on a week-long drinking binge. After that, I was too ashamed to tell anyone what was going on. I thought no one would believe me."

I nodded, feeling intensely sad for the girl sitting in front of me. "Was he ever physically or emotionally abusive to you and your mother?"

"Yes," she said. "He was always slapping mom around, bullying her. I guess that was why she drank so much; as an escape. I know that's why I got into drugs in high school." She paused. "I'm clean now, and I'm happy. I'm in therapy, I'm married to a good man, and I have Gracie. She's all that matters."

"That's wonderful," I said. "I'm glad you were able to start over. Not everyone is strong enough to do that."

She blushed a little, smiling shyly. "Anyway, yeah. My dad was an asshole. My parents hid their drinking pretty well, but I think he had a worse problem than my mom did. When he was like that, he'd... hit me." Her voice shook a little. "Sometimes with a belt, sometimes with his hands. Once, he hurt me bad enough to need stitches, and he drove me to the emergency room himself. He told the nurse that I fell off the trampoline."

I shuddered. "Did your mother ever try to help you?"

She shrugged. "When I was little, she'd lock me in the bathroom when he was really bad. I just remember sitting on the floor screaming to get out. She threatened to take me and leave sometimes, but she never followed through with it. She didn't have any money, or a car. And she was too afraid to call the cops or anything like that. Even though he treated her like dirt, I guess just being with him made her feel secure, for some reason."

"You had a falling out with your parents," I said. "What happened?"

"I ran away when I was fifteen," she said. "I had a boyfriend, and once when we were high, I let it slip about what was going on. He told me to pack my bags and meet him that night. So I did. I wrote my mother a note, and never looked back."

I nodded slowly. I couldn't help but wonder what Callie would have done if she didn't have Sophia to think about. Would she have turned to drugs or ran away, like Lindsey did?

"We didn't stay together for very long," she said. "He turned out to be a jerk. He dumped me and took off. So, I stayed with a friend, and got a job as a waitress. That's how I met my husband. I sent my mom a Christmas card once, but I never heard back."

"Oh," I said. "I'm sorry."

"What about your daughters?" she asked me. "What did my father do to them?" She gave me an intense look, fear in her clear blue eyes.

"Well," I said, taking a deep breath. "Their story is similar to yours. Your mother left your father, but she didn't take Callie and Sophia with her. The night she left, he started hurting them. He sexually abused Callie, and she took it so he'd leave her little sister alone. He beat them and neglected them. And a few months ago, everything came to a head."

I paused, knowing I'd reached the point of no return. "This might be hard for you to hear..." I warned.

"I can handle it," she assured me. "I want to know the truth."

"Okay," I said. "This is what happened. Callie, against her better judgement, left her sister alone in the house with Brian. When she came home, she caught him sexually abusing Sophia. She did what she could to stop him, and he hurt her. Sophia went to call for help, but he broke the phone before she could get to it. Sophia was desperate- he was beating her sister, threatening to kill them. So she did the only thing she could do. She took his gun from the drawer, and she shot him."

Lindsey's mouth hung open in shock. Speechless, she looked back at the door, watching Sophia play with Gracie. "That little girl killed my father?"

I nodded. "I'm sorry..." I paused. "She didn't mean to kill him. She only wanted to stop him from hurting them. And if you're worried about Sophia being around your daughter, don't. She's not violent. She's the sweetest, most loving child in the world. I wouldn't keep her in my home if I didn't believe she was completely harmless. Callie too. They've been a tremendous blessing to my wife and I. We love them both so much."

"I believe you," she said. "I just... feel bad that they went through that."

"So do I," I said. "But we're trying to help them put it behind them. We're planning to adopt them as soon as we get this hearing settled. That's why I need your help. We need to convince the judge that Sophia killed your father in self-defense, because she and Callie's lives were in immediate danger. It's hard, because your father's dead now, and he was never convicted of a violent crime. But if you told the judge what you just told me, your testimony could change everything."

She shrunk back, chewing her lip. "It took so long for me to move forward."

"I know," I said. "I do. But just think... you could help my girls do the same thing, Lindsey. They're hurting. Callie wakes up screaming with night terrors, and Sophia's afraid to leave her sister's side for even a minute. They haven't been diagnosed yet, but I believe they both have Post-traumatic Stress Disorder. And if Sophia had to go to jail for what she did, they'd never survive."

"I'll do it," she finally said. "I'll help them in any way I can."

"Really?" I sucked in my breath. "You don't know how much this means to us. I don't know how to thank you."

"You don't have to thank me," she said. "I'm a mother, too. And If my little girl went through what yours did, I'd want justice too."

Just then, the girls and Gracie came through the back door. "Gracie has to go potty," Sophia said, looking at us apologetically.

"Do you, baby?" asked Lindsey. "Aren't you a big girl for telling someone." She took the little girl by the hand. "Excuse me for just a minute," she said. "We're potty training."

"How's it going?" Callie asked, sitting down next to me, her eyes searching my face for answers.

"It's going well," I told her, wrapping her in my arms and breathing in the smell of her hair. "She's going to help us, baby." I gave her a kiss, then pulled Sophia onto my lap.

A few minutes later, Lindsey and Gracie returned. "Can I talk to your daughters for a minute?" she asked me. "Please?"

"Of course," I nodded.

Sophia slid off my lap and sat down next to Callie. Lindsey sat across from them, looking them in the eye. "Girls, I want to apologize for what my father did to you. What my mother did, too. I know that can never make it right, though." Her eyes filled with tears. "But your mom told me your story, and I think the two of you are so strong. You did what I never had the courage to do. Instead, I made some really bad choices. If I'd known about you two, I would have came and got you, and took you out of that house. But I promise you- you have my word- that I'll speak up for you in court. It's the only way I can think of to even begin making up for what my father put you through. I'm so sorry."

"It wasn't your fault," Callie said, blinking back tears. "You didn't know."

"Still, it was my family," she said. "And I can't help but feel somewhat responsible. Doing this for you will help me too, more than you could ever know." She smiled through her tears. "Can- can I have a hug?"

Sophia and Callie nodded, and Lindsey took them both in her arms at once.

Before we left, I had to ask. "Do you have any idea where I can find your mother? I'd like to get in touch with her, and see if she's willing to testify."

"I haven't talked to her in years," Lindsey told me. "But her sister might know. My aunt, Bonnie Wilcox. Hold on." She went to a desk and took out and address book. She copied down an address and phone number. "This is where to reach her, last I knew. I hope it helps."

I recognized the zip code. It wasn't too far from us, and even if the information was outdated, it was more than enough to help me locate her. "Thank you," I said. "We'll be in touch."

It turned out that the information Lindsey gave me to reach her aunt was current. Not only that, but it led me straight to Laura. She'd been living with her sister since leaving Brian. I didn't think I could get any luckier than that. I just hoped my luck would hold out.

The next day, I paid a visit to Laura alone, without the girls. She refused to meet me at her home, asking me to meet her at a park. I found her sitting on a secluded park bench, throwing bits of bagel to the seagulls. "Laura?" I asked.

She looked up, and I recognized Lindsey in her. She had the same blue eyes and freckles. She nodded. "You must be Stefanie."

I sat down. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," she said. "Thanks."

"I'd like to get right down to business," I told her politely. "We spoke a little last night on the phone? About Callie and Sophia?"

"How are they?" she asked me, her eyes flashing with something I thought might be concern, but it was gone before I could decide.

"They... they're having a hard time, honestly," I admitted. "But we're getting them all the help we can, and plenty of love. They've truly become part of our family."

"I'm glad for them." She tossed the last of the crumbs to the birds, then brushed off her hands. "You said something about a trial? I don't understand. What do you want with me?"

"I just want answers," I said, trying to keep my cool. I quickly explained to her everything that happened once she left the girls with Brian, without skipping a detail.

"I knew the shooting wasn't an accident," she said, shaking her head. "I just can't believe it was Sophia who killed him. She'd cry when someone killed a spider."

"She doesn't feel good about what she did," I told her. "I think she'd give anything to take it back. But she did what she had to do to save herself and Callie." When Laura didn't answer, I went on. "I'd like to know your side of the story. Please?"

She nodded. "Alright. Where should I start?"

"How about when your daughter, Lindsey was young, before she left home?"

She looked at me, a little bit startled. "How did you know about that?"

"I've done my research," I told her. "It's necessary to support the investigation."

She looked away. "I suppose Lindsey already told you a lot," she said. "Yes, Brian abused us. I'll admit that. And sometimes I hate him for it. But... I can't blame him completely. It wasn't all his fault."

"Why? Did someone else hold him at gunpoint and force him to hit you and your children?" I immediately wished I'd kept my mouth shut. But I couldn't bite my tongue. There was nothing that got under my skin more than a victim defending their abuser. However, I knew I wasn't helping matters either by being sarcastic.

She looked back at me, seemingly on the verge of tears. "He had a sickness. I knew what he was going through, so I tried to be understanding. I struggled with alcoholism too."

"I see where you're coming from," I said. "My ex-husband was an alcoholic, and it was difficult on the whole family. But Brian's behavior can't be completely blamed on his addiction." I sighed. "Why don't we skip to when Callie and Sophia came into your lives?"

"Okay," she said. "I was heartbroken when Lindsey left. She was our only child. I went into a deep depression. Finally, Brian and I decided to get some help. We went to AA meetings, trying to get sober. He really did change, but I still wasn't happy. I kept telling him I wished I could have another chance to be a mother. Then one day, I saw a flier at the grocery store about becoming foster parents, and we decided to do it."

"I see," I said. I was still trying to form an opinion of Laura. She seemed nice enough, but there was something about her that rubbed me the wrong way.

"We were placed with Callie and Sophia right away," she went on. "We had problems with them from the start."

"What sorts of problems?" I asked.

"Behavioral problems," she said. "Callie was angry, combative, mouthy. Sophia was sullen. She hardly ever spoke. I caught Callie stealing money from us a few times, and she would lie right to my face about it."

"That doesn't sound like Callie," I said. "She's always been well-behaved for us."

She shrugged. "I'm not lying."

"I didn't say you were," I said. "I'm sorry. Please, go on."

"I guess the stress of having the kids in the house became too much for Brian," she continued. "I wanted the kids, but he never really did. The money was what convinced him to let me take them. He'd been out of work for a while. Eventually, he went back to drinking and beating me. I started drinking again too, just as a way to cope."

She paused. "I'd thought about leaving Brian on and off over the years, but I didn't have the resources to take care of myself. I didn't know where I'd go, or what I'd do. But one day, he hit me so hard, he knocked me out. I called my sister, and she offered to come get me in an hour. She did."

"Why didn't you take the girls with you?" I asked. "You must have known they wouldn't be safe with your husband."

"I couldn't take them out of the county," she said, tearing up. "Otherwise I would've. But I had to leave so suddenly. And Brian had never laid a hand on either of the girls. I figured he'd just call their social worker and have them removed from the home, so he wouldn't have to deal with them."

"You should have called their social worker than night," I said, gently. "They could have been put in emergency placement."

"I made a mistake," she said. "I'm sorry. But I can't change it now."

"There is something you can do," I told her. "You can testify on behalf of the girls. You can tell him about Brian's history of violence. Any information you give could only strengthen their case."

She wiped her tears on her sleeve. "Could I be charged with something if I do?"

I couldn't lie to her. "You could be charged with endangering the welfare of a child," I said. "But the judge might take into consideration that you were a battered wife."

She sobbed harder, shaking her head. "I can't do it. I'm afraid."

"But what about Callie and Sophia?" I asked her. "They're the ones who've had to pay for your mistake. They didn't come away from your home unscathed. I should know. I get up with them night after night when they have nightmares." I held her gaze a little longer. "Maybe things were supposed to turn out this way, because they ended up with our family, where they're loved and cared for. But that doesn't make it right. No child should have to go through what they did."

"I'm sorry," she sniffled, standing up. "I want to help, but I can't. I won't testify."

"I hope you change your mind," I told her. "Because you owe those babies, Laura. And this might be the only chance you have to make amends."

To Be Continued