Motion to Reconsider Bail—denied.
Motion to Reopen Detention Hearing—denied.
Motion for Conditions of Release—denied.
Every time, the AG pushed for preventative detention, calling Lacey too dangerous to be released.
“Jack filed another motion,” I told her, keeping my voice hopeful. “This one will go to a different judge. Jack thinks he might actually listen. He also added a complaint about how the State keeps rescheduling your mental health evaluation. Jack said they can’t demand a second opinion and then never schedule it.”
She didn’t blink or move. Her eyes were still locked on the same spot in her lap.
I hated them. All of them. Thomas Harlow. Kara Belmont. The police. The media. I’d never hated anyone in my life, but seeing my daughter like this … it filled my heart with a rage as hot as the fires burning in hell.
My throat tightened. I forced my eyes back to the officer, catching her glance again. This one was kind. She held the phone for the full twenty-minute visit, unlike the last guard, who’d shrugged and said Lacey could “pick up her own damn phone or the visit was over.”
“Two minutes,” the officer said quietly.
I gave a small nod.
“Oh—I do have some good news,” I said. “Jack was able to get the judge to grant me power of attorney. So I can meet with your psychiatrist and jail doctor. Maybe we can get you some protein shakes or powder, something to help with your energy. Nutrition is important when you’re … when you’re trying to hold on. And we might be able to adjust your meds too. For the depression. And the nightmares.”
No reaction.
“I already scheduled a meeting with the doctor this afternoon,” I added. “They won’t allow me to meet him here. But he agreed to see me at his clinic in Exeter.” I rolled myeyes. “That’s typical of the government, huh? Anything to make it harder on the people.”
She didn’t respond. Just stared at that same damn spot.
And seeing her like this made me feel something else too.
It was guilt.
So much of it I could barely breathe.
I knew Lacey always thought she had let me down. That I thought her pregnancy with Dylan was a mistake. Maybe even that she was a mistake.
“Pumpkin …” She kept her eyes down. “I …”
A tear rolled down my cheek. Damn it, I had to be stronger. For her. I quickly wiped it away and pretended nothing happened.
“I know you always felt like you let me down, but … that’s just not true.”
My hand pressed against the cold glass separating us.
“I’m so proud of the woman and mom you’ve become. Your kids adore you, especially Dylan. I know we didn’t always see eye to eye when it comes to Brian, but I really need you to know how proud I am of you and everything you’ve accomplished and—”
“Time’s up,” the officer said gently, cutting me off.
“Thank you so much,” I told her. “You were very kind.” She gave me a curt nod.
“I love you, pumpkin,” I said as they rose and walked to the door. “Hang in there. I’ll have you out in no time.”
But Lacey was led away before I could finish the sentence.
I stood and straightened my coat, trying to pull myself back together. I really had to meet Dr. Langford in Exeter. The way Lacey looked …
Jail was obviously taking a toll on her body.
“Time to go,” one of the officers called. Someone else was already waiting for the booth.
