“Welcome,” she said. “I’m the house manager, Viviane.” She stuck out her hand. Her eyes were framed by dark lenses. She had thick black hair that she wore in a braid falling down the middle of her back. “Come in.” She motioned me inside.
I scanned the foyer quickly, trying to take everything in all at once. A long staircase rose in front of us. Two hallways split from the foyer, one on each side of the staircase. Viviane veered to the hallway on the left, and I followed. She didn’t speak while we walked. The house was quiet despite the ten girls living there.
“Where is everyone?” I asked.
“Things are very different here on the weekends. Many of the children go home because they’ve earned weekend visits.” She squeezed my arm. “I know it must seem like it will be forever before you get there, but I tell all my first-time parents that visits will happen before you know it.”
First-time parents? Children came here more than one time? I swallowed the anxiety creeping its way up the back of my throat.
“Normally, you would be in the common areas because it’s where we do supervised visits, but Janie’s been lying down all morning because she hasn’t eaten since yesterday.”
“Nothing?”
She shook her head. “Unfortunately, no. I saw you’ve already spoken to the doctors about it.”
We’d spent over an hour on the phone yesterday. Janie was refusing food again. Last week, she’d gone three days, and they’d had to hospitalize her. Somehow, I had to find a way to convince her to eat today.
Viviane stopped when she came to the third door on her right. She knocked before entering, announcing her presence, not asking permission.
“Daddy!” Janie squealed, flying off the bed and into my arms in record time. I wrapped my arms around her and twirled her around as she giggled. I smothered her with kisses all over her face.
Viviane took a seat on the bed against the other wall. Janie’s room was arranged much like my college dorm room during freshman year—a twin bed pushed against each wall. I wished I could meet with her alone, but the judge had ordered supervised visitation only. He’d promised to revisit the issue at our next court date.
Janie tugged on my hand. “Daddy, look. See?” She pointed at her walls. They were covered in a collage of her artwork. Drawings and paintings with bright colors and thick, solid lines brought life to her room. Most of them were done in purple and pink. Smack in the center was one of a man and a little girl holding hands underneath a rainbow. My eyes filled with tears. I struggled to contain them.
I’d never been blinded by love before. I’d thought that was reserved for romantic love, but it wasn’t. I loved Janie in ways I couldn’t describe or understand. I probably never would. Even after everything she’d done.
I carried her over to the wall and tapped the picture. I grinned at her as she smiled back. “This one is my favorite.”
Cole had fallen asleep early, something that was so rare. He had been with my mom since the funeral, and we had finally gotten him back into our custody. Piper had worked out an agreement with the judge after Hannah had pleaded guilty to child abuse. There was no way our new social worker would be able to get things done as quickly as Piper.
It was his second night home, and last night had been rough. He’d screamed for most of it, but unlike before, when Hannah had tended to him all night long and woken at his slightest sound, last night she had put in her earplugs and rolled over to go back to sleep. I’d taken him into the living room until he had calmed down. It had looked like it had physically hurt her to watch me walk out of the room with Cole, but allowing me to take care of him during the night was part of her treatment plan, since sleep was one of the most important factors in her recovery.
It was like Cole had sensed we needed him to go easy on us tonight. It usually took him over an hour to fall asleep, but he’d been out within ten minutes. Hannah and I had been sitting at the kitchen table ever since, just staring into our tea. It had long grown cold, but we stayed rooted to our spots. Everything between us felt strange and forced. We moved around each other in the house like awkward roommates. We’d barely spoken since I had gotten back from my visit with Janie. She’d asked how it had gone but then had walked away before I could answer.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. It’d been going off for the past hour, but I had been ignoring all my calls. I could do that now that I didn’t have to worry about getting called in to the hospital. Dan had put me on administrative leave last week. He’d said it was only temporary, but I wasn’t sure I believed him.
Suddenly, the house phone rang, and we both jumped. No one called on our house phone unless it was an emergency. Most of the time I forgot we had it. I looked at Hannah. She shook her head. Neither of us moved.
It cut off only to start again a few seconds later. What if something was wrong with one of our parents? I felt like throwing up. The room spun when I stood. I grabbed the phone from its spot on the counter. “Hello?” I said.
Piper’s voice was hurried, breathless. “Christopher, I’m two minutes away from your house. Don’t pick up your phone if anyone calls, and don’t answer your door. I’m going to come around the back.”
The line went dead.
I hung the receiver up slowly. She never called this late. What was going on?
“That was Piper,” I said.
Nothing.
Were we even supposed to talk to her now that she wasn’t on the case? What was allowed? How was Hannah not burning with curiosity? Didn’t she have questions?
“She’s on her way over,” I said.
Still nothing. Hannah’s shoulders were hunched together like she was trying to disappear inside herself. She wore the stare that meant she’d slipped away. The one that made me want to beg her to talk to me, to just let me inside again. But I didn’t. She’d come to me when she was ready. I fought against the fear that she never would. I took her hand in mine. She didn’t jerk it away; at least that was something.
It wasn’t long before there was a tap at our back door. Nobody ever used that one. Piper stood on the step, panting and sweating like she’d run a mile. “I hopped the fence,” she said.
I motioned for her to come inside. I peeked around the corner of the door, half expecting someone to be chasing her.
“Do you want a glass of water?” I asked, locking the door behind us.
“That’d be great.” She took a minute to gather her breath while I poured it. Normally, Hannah would’ve asked her if she needed anything else, but she didn’t have enough energy to say hello. I was surprised I’d gotten her out of bed today. Yesterday, she’d refused.
“I had to get here before they did,” Piper said after she’d taken a drink.
“Who? Who’s coming?”
“Probably the police.”
“Why are the police coming?” I asked.
This got Hannah’s attention. She smoothed her hair back away from her face and sat up straight in her chair.
Piper nodded and furtively looked around the kitchen like someone might be spying on us. “Or the lawyers. I’m not sure. But they’re going to come for you, Christopher.” She sounded like a paranoid junkie who’d been up all night smoking crack.
“Me? What did I do? I don’t understand.”
“Greg’s attorney filed a motion to charge you with reckless manslaughter for Allison’s death.”
Her words fell like lead on the table.
“What? You can’t be serious.”
“I am. And apparently, the judge agrees with him. At least enough to issue a warrant. One of my colleagues on the police force gave me the heads-up. I came as soon as I found out.”
“How am I responsible for Allison’s death? I wasn’t even there.”
“His lawyers reviewed the footage from the nanny cam. They’re claiming Janie intended to kill Allison when she pushed her down the stairs and that you should’ve known she might do something like that given her history of violence.”
“What?” I shrieked. “There’s no way they can claim any of those things based on that video.”
I’d seen the same footage they had. I’d probably been over it as many times. Piper too. There was no disputing that there had been a struggle at the top of the stairs and that Janie had pushed Allison down them, but it was impossible to know anything else besides that. You could speculate all you wanted, but there was no sound, and you couldn’t see anything above the shins.
“Just because she pushed Allison doesn’t mean she was trying to kill her. That’s absurd.” I shook my head, opposed to the very idea of it. “Janie didn’t try to kill her. Not on purpose. She’d never do that.”
I didn’t doubt Janie had been angry when she’d found out Allison wanted her to leave and had pushed her down the stairs, but she’d done it because she’d been angry and frustrated, not with any murderous intent. I could guarantee she hadn’t given a thought to the consequences. It was common in children who’d experienced trauma. They had very little impulse control. I’d read all about it in one of Dr. Chandler’s books.
Piper shrugged. “It might be absurd, but it’s happening.”
“Janie went to get help. Why would she go for help if she wanted her to die? How come I’m the only one who sees that?” I threw my hands up in the air.
“I understand what you’re saying, but she waited a long time before she did.” Piper’s breathing had finally slowed. She slid into a dining room chair next to Hannah.
“Seven minutes isn’t that long for a traumatized child to freeze. She doesn’t even have any concept of time anyway.” I was running out of steam. No one would ever see Janie through my eyes. “Am I going to jail?”
“Whether it was intentional or unintentional doesn’t really matter. You’re focusing on the wrong thing.” Piper downed the rest of her water before speaking. “His lawyers claim it was your duty to warn them about Janie’s problems. He says if you’d told them the things Janie did, like killing the cat or biting Hannah, then they never would’ve taken her into their home, and Allison would still be here. Greg is determined to make someone pay for Allison’s death, and he’s putting the responsibility on you. His lawyer hired a hotshot private investigator from out East to dig up as much dirt as possible.”
“Do you know anything about the private investigator?” I asked. “What could they possibly be looking for? There’s nothing hidden. Nothing.” I laid open my palms. “We’ve been up front about everything. Always have.”
Piper stopped me before I spiraled further. “It’s not that uncommon to hire a private investigator. Lawyers do it all the time. It’s easier for them if someone else does their dirty work. I don’t know anything about the guy he hired other than that his name is Ron and he used to be a homicide detective.”
Hannah looked stricken. “He can’t do this to Christopher. He just can’t.”
“Unfortunately, he can. And Greg’s serious about the lawsuit.”
“What about Hannah?” I didn’t mean to sound so angry.
“I guess they figure she’s not responsible for any of it given her mental state. You need to get ahead of this. Do you have a lawyer?”
Of course I didn’t have a lawyer. I’d never even had a speeding ticket. I shook my head.
“Then you need to get one, and now. I’ll send you a few referrals—people that I trust who’ve helped out parents in sticky situations.”
“You’ve had this happen before?”
“Not this. I’ve never even heard of something like this before. I’ve seen parents get charged with violating parental-responsibility laws, but never on a manslaughter case.” She scanned the kitchen. “We’re not going to answer the phone or the door until we get you a lawyer. Where’s your computer?”
“My laptop is on the coffee table,” I said, already walking into the living room to get it.
I brewed a fresh pot of coffee. The three of us pored over lawyers, trying to find someone from Piper’s list who specialized in parental-responsibility laws. I kept sneaking glances at Hannah while she worked. It was the first time she’d looked like her old self in a long time. She still nibbled on her lower lip while she read. I smiled despite the awfulness of the situation.
Shortly after ten, there was a knock on the door. We all froze. It had to be the police. No one visited us this late. We didn’t speak for thirty minutes just to make sure they were gone. It wasn’t long until Piper’s source emailed her the affidavit for my arrest.
“Aren’t you going to lose your job for that?” I asked, pointing to the report opening on her screen. We’d been so wrapped up in my legal drama that we hadn’t even talked about her removal from our case.
“It’s a matter of public record once it’s filed. He just got ahold of it as soon as it was filed. He knows how much you guys mean to me.” She smiled warmly. I’d never appreciated her more than I did at that moment.
We plowed through the document. Greg’s lawyer claimed I’d had a duty to warn them about Janie and failed to fulfill my parental obligation in exercising responsible care, supervision, and control over her. He went on to say that I’d ignored Janie’s violent behavior and failed to provide the proper mental health treatment for her issues. He claimed I should’ve known there was a possibility that Janie would hurt someone, even kill them. He sealed his order by laying out how my lack of action and proper care contributed to Allison’s death and how I was therefore criminally responsible for it. He cited penal code after penal code and ended with something called Autumn’s Law, which I’d never heard of before.
I instinctively reached for Hannah’s hand, but it wasn’t there. Her hands were clasped tightly together on her lap.
SIXTY
HANNAH BAUER
I startled awake. There was a moment every morning when, for a split second, I didn’t remember everything I’d lost, and in the next instant my changed reality came rushing back, flooding me with memories. The grief pummeled me, making it take too much effort to roll over. But I didn’t have a choice. My outpatient therapy was a requirement if I stood any chance of ever getting my nursing license back. They hadn’t taken it yet, but they would as soon as they found out about my felony child abuse charge. It was only a matter of time.
I stared at Christopher while he slept. The trial judge had thrown out the manslaughter charges against him. He hadn’t wanted to be the first one to set a precedent for something like that, but Greg wasn’t willing to let go that easily. His lawyer had filed for the lesser charge of reckless endangerment, hoping they’d stand a better chance. Our lawyer assured us it was only a matter of time before that one was thrown out, too, but it didn’t matter. The damage had been done. Our story had been featured on the nightly news twice.
Cole was sprawled sideways across Christopher’s chest. Christopher had been bringing him into bed with us at night after he calmed him down. He said it was easier to keep him asleep that way. They’d been up three times during the night. I faked sleep when he came back to bed. My body refused to allow sleep until Cole was content. That part hadn’t changed, but I let Christopher take him at night when he fussed and said nothing. That’s how I was supposed to parent now.
I carefully slid Cole from his arms, doing my best not to wake Christopher, and carried him with me downstairs so Christopher could have an hour to sleep by himself. Cole stirred, and I bounced him on my chest as I heated his bottle. I’d spend the rest of my life making up for what I’d done to him, how close I’d come to irreversible damage. The images of him in the hospital would never leave.
I grabbed my pill container and carried it with us into the living room. Cole eagerly latched on to his bottle and settled on my chest. I lifted the tab for Tuesday. Two pinks in the morning. One white at lunch. Two pinks again in the evening. Blue octagon right before bed.
I’d expected coming home would be difficult, but it was harder than I had imagined. Our situation hung over us at all times. The walls were heavy with our story. Having Cole with us again
didn’t make it any easier, even though I was grateful to have him back.
My panic attacks had waned at the hospital, but they were back in full force. The first one had happened as soon as I had walked in the front door. Everything about the house was a trigger. I felt like I was underwater, struggling to reach the surface for air, and each time I made it, I didn’t get enough air before I was shoved under again. I’d stopped counting attacks yesterday after I’d gotten to eleven.
I’d called Dr. Spence three times after they had started making me feel like I was going to throw up and have diarrhea at the same time. None of the techniques we’d practiced at the hospital worked in the real world. All I could do was hide in the bathroom until the feelings passed. The only things that made an impact at all were these stupid pills. I threw the two pink ones in my mouth, washing them down with the water I’d left on the end table last night.
Christopher and I still hadn’t talked about Janie. We tiptoed around her like she was a bomb that might explode if we got too close. I had asked him how their visit had gone yesterday because it was the right thing to do, but as soon as he’d started talking, panic had flooded me, and I’d barely made it to the bathroom in time.
Her presence was everywhere. I wanted to pack it up in boxes and put it all away. I closed my eyes whenever I walked by her room. I was never letting her back in my house. Ever. I didn’t care if there wasn’t a way to prove what had happened on the stairs—she had killed my sister. I wasn’t ever going to visit or see her again. I hadn’t told Christopher yet, but I would when I was strong enough for the fight I’d be up against. He’d still trade his life for hers.
CASE #5243
INTERVIEW:
PIPER GOLDSTEIN
Ron slid the evidence bag across the table and pointed to it. “Do you know what this is?”
“Someone’s phone,” I said.
“Becky’s phone,” he said.
“The one they recovered from the trailer?” I asked.
The Perfect Child Page 29
