Page 358 of Wicked Brutal

Behind me, Walter closes his eyes.

“What did Tobias do when he came to your home?”

“He settled.” Immediate. “He knew us. He knew the house, where his snacks were, which toys were his. He’d follow Walter outside, bring him frogs, ask him a thousand questions.” A faint smile. “He started calling him my Walter.”

Walter’s face crumples.

“I always thought Jane kept calling because she knew he was safe with us. I never understood why she trusted us quite that much.”

Arthur goes very still. Then he closes the folder. “Thank you. No further questions.”

Roman’s attorney rises. “Mrs. Harrington, you testified that you’re a mother. But you’re not Tobias’s mother. Not his legal guardian. Not a child psychologist, not a social worker.”

“No,” she says, to each.

“So when you say Tobias views Alison as a parent, that’s your personal interpretation. Influenced by your affection for her. By your son’s relationship with her. By the fact that she’s carrying your grandchild.”

“Of course.” She doesn’t flinch on any of it.

He steps closer. “You also testified that Tobias regularly sleeps in the same bed as your eighteen-year-old son and his pregnant girlfriend.”

Arthur starts to stand. “Your Honor—“

“I’ll allow it, within reason.”

Arthur sits slowly.

Cassandra’s expression changes. “Yes.”

“And you consider that appropriate.”

“I consider it understandable.”

“You aren’t qualified to determine what’s psychologically appropriate for a grieving child.”

“No.”

“Then on what basis do you make that assessment?”

Cassandra is quiet a moment. “Because I’m a mother. And because I’ve known Tobias his whole life.” Her voice stays calm. “When I find a six-year-old who just watched his entire world disappear asleep between the two people he feels safest with, I’m not thinking about whether the sleeping arrangement is ideal.”

“What are you thinking?”

Her eyes fill. “That he’s making sure Ally didn’t disappear too.”

The room goes dead silent. I can’t breathe.

The attorney glances at his notes and regroups. “You testified Alison is exhausted. Grieving. Pregnant. Still in high school. Wouldn’t it be reasonable to conclude she already has more responsibility than an eighteen-year-old should be expected to manage?”

Cassandra considers him. “Yes.”

My heart drops. Then—

“She has more responsibility than any eighteen-year-old should ever have been forced to manage.” She looks at me. “But that isn’t the same as saying she hasn’t managed it.”

The attorney pauses.

“She shouldn’t have had to raise Tobias alongside Jane. She shouldn’t have grown up in that house. She shouldn’t be grieving her mother at eighteen, or pregnant and terrified someone might take her brother because she accepts help.”