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Sitting at my desk, I think long and hard before answering her. It’s obvious something is going on and since this is the first time she’s opened up to me, I don’t want to scare her by asking too many personal questions right out the gate.
“Emancipation is complicated. The judge is going to ask for a reason and then proof that you can take care of yourself.”
“I already do.” Her eyes hold mine in an almost dare.
“Financially. They’re going to ask for proof that you can manage as an adult. They’ll expect you to have a game plan. Have you thought that far ahead?”
“No.” Annabelle gnaws the skin on her knuckle and I notice her fingernails are chewed down to nubs.
“Why do you want to be emancipated from your father?” The two of us sit in silence for a while. Patiently, I wait while Annabelle continues to stare at the floor. “You know, when my mom died, my dad was sad all the time, too. Still is. It took him a long time to push forward and get back to how he used to be before. Even then, he was never really the same.”
“Did he um…” Annabelle stumbles as she tries to find the right word. “Did he ever get angry?”
“At times.” I’m choosing my own words very carefully because I want to hear everything she’s trying to tell me. I don’t want to lose her by pushing too hard or assuming.
“With you?”
“I was a teenager, so I’m sure I did plenty to upset him. Does your dad get angry a lot?”
Annabelle nods her head silently, and I watch as a single tear falls down her cheek. “He says it should’ve been me. The car ran the red light and hit my mom’s side. He says it should’ve been mine.” My heart instantly shatters and it takes everything I have not to react. “He drinks a lot now. Some nights are worse than others.”
“Annabelle, when he drinks, does he touch y—”
“No,” she quickly interrupts while swiping at her tears. “Not like that.”
“Is he violent with you?”
Annabelle begins to sob uncontrollably. Immediately, I stand and go to her. Placing my hand on her shoulder, I’m shocked when she wraps her arms around my waist and buries her face in my shirt. I knew something was going on with this poor girl. She’s been in my office this year more times than I can count, and I can’t help but feel as though I’ve failed her.
“I’m scared if I don’t get away from him, he’ll…” She sobs, unable to finish her sentence.
“I’ll take care of it. You’ll be safe, ok?” She doesn’t respond, and I don’t expect her to. All she does is squeeze me tighter.
When Annabelle’s tears have slowed, I call Jackson and let him know what’s going on. My next call is to the Department of Family and Protective Services. They will be the ones in charge of finding a safe place for Annabelle to stay during the investigation. After what feels like an eternity, I watch as Annabelle walks down the hall with the social worker.
“They’ll put her in the group center until they find her a temporary home.”
Jackson is standing next to me as he whispers the details I already know. If the allegations against her father are proven to be true, a teenager being placed in the system for the first time has a very little chance of finding a forever home. She’ll bounce around for two years and then be kicked out the second she turns eighteen.
“Rory?” I look up at Jackson, his hazel eyes sad and full of worry. “There’s no way you could’ve known.”
“Yeah.”
“You didn’t give up on her, and you gave her a place where she felt safe enough to tell her secret.”
“I know.”
And I do know. Everything Jackson is saying is right. There were never any bruises or signs of abuse. A lot of teenagers act out for a number of different reasons. I only wish Annabelle would have trusted me sooner.
“I have to get back to the station. Do you want to come with me?”
“No.” I exhale. “I’m going to grab my stuff and head home.”
With a weary nod, Jackson reluctantly takes a step away from me. “I’ll check in on you later, ok?”
My cell phone rings, and I glance over as it dances across my desk. “Ok, I’ll talk to you soon.”
Heading for my phone, I pick it up and check the caller ID. It’s an Austin area code.
“Hello,” I answer.
“Hello,” the thick Texan accent replies. “May I speak with Aurora Monroe?”
“This is her.”
“Aurora, this is Brittney at GenCo Laboratory. We have your results from the genetic testing you had done a few weeks back. How soon can you come in for an appointment?”
