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I’m sitting up in bed, and for the first time in weeks, my vision is beginning to clear. The foggy feeling I’ve suffered is lifting, and I finally feel like this virus is coming to an end. The door opens and Ollie rushes in, followed by Albert. He stops by the edge of my bed and eyes me warily. “You look terrible,” he tells me.
I grin. “Thanks. I actually feel like I’m getting better.”
“You’ve been sick for weeks,” Ollie tells me.
“Has Nan been looking after you?” I try hard to remember for myself, but everything seems so hazy. He nods. “Where is she?” Ollie looks back over his shoulder to Albert, and I’m immediately suspicious. “Why am I here?”
Albert squeezes Ollie’s shoulder gently. “You wanna stick around or go back to Mav?” he asks.
Ollie heads for the door. “I’ll see you in church?” he asks, and Albert nods.
Once he’s gone, Albert sits on the bed. “How are you feeling?”
“What the hell is going on?”
“You’ve been MIA for just over two weeks, Rosey,” he says.
I laugh. “I’ve been at home fighting a virus.”
“A virus . . . or these?” he asks, pulling my pill packet from his pocket. “I found them on your table beside your bed.”
“I’ve been a little down,” I admit. “They were to help.”
“They were keeping you asleep, keeping you laid up in bed.”
I frown. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“There’s something else I need to tell you,” he adds.
Maverick bursts in, taking me by surprise. “We got a big problem,” he says. “The police are here . . . for Ollie.”
I throw the sheets back. “No,” snaps Albert. “You should stay here. You don’t know everything yet.”
“He’s my son,” I growl, pushing to stand on weak legs. I grab his arm for support, and he reluctantly helps me to walk.
Downstairs, the police are talking to Ollie, and Mum is by the door with Dougie. “What’s going on?” I ask Mum. She looks away, but I don’t miss the guilt on her face. A female police officer ushers me away from Mum, and Albert follows.
“Ollie is under their care, he can’t stay here,” she gently tells me. I’m confused, and my expression must show it, because she goes on to add, “An emergency care order was granted last week.”
I think my heart stutters a few times before her words process in my brain. Albert takes my hand to steady me as I sway. Lack of food and the shock of her words are making me faint. “What the hell are you talking about?” Albert demands.
The officer unfolds a piece of paper and holds it for us to see. I scan my eyes over it. “I don’t understand,” I whisper.
“Your mother and stepfather were granted a temporary care order as an emergency. A social worker called to see you several times leading up to this, but you were always . . . well, you weren’t really with it.”
“Of course, I wasn’t, I’ve been ill,” I argue. “Mum,” I say, glaring across the room at her for confirmation. She remains silent. “I swear, I had a virus of some kind and I’ve not been well. But I’m much better now,” I explain desperately.
The officer shrugs. “There’s nothing I can do, I’m afraid. A social worker will be in contact to explain everything. There will be steps you need to complete before the next hearing.”
“When will that be?” I cry.
“I’m not sure. Like I said, the social worker will have all the details.”
The officers sitting with Ollie stand. He searches the room until his eyes land on me and guilt hits me hard. He’s pleading with his eyes for me to stop this as they lead him away. “Do something,” I yell, glaring at Maverick. “He’s your half-brother, can’t you take him?”
Mav shakes his head. “I tried that, but they’re not interested. We have to let him go.”
“No,” I cry, rushing towards them. Albert wraps an arm around my waist, and I fight against him, screaming as Ollie is lead away. Mum looks back one last time before following, and I crumble in Albert’s arms, sobs shaking my body.
