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“Are you sure?”
“Stop questioning it, Elle, and just go. Your problem takes priority over work. Go.”
I don’t need to be told again. Grabbing my things, I rush out to my car and drive home as fast as I can. I want to put my foot on the gas, and I’m trembling as I drive, but I manage to keep it together. The knowledge that there is a CPS worker at my house is frightening to me.
Who would be calling them? Surely, they couldn’t suspect that I would hurt my daughter. Amy means the world to me. I would never hurt her.
Somehow, I manage to get home without causing an accident, and I pull into the drive. I nearly drop my bag as I hurry towards the house. Following the voices as I come through the door, I enter the living room to find Carly and Amy on the couch with a police officer standing next to them. A plump woman with red hair and wire-rimmed glasses is sitting across from them, writing something in a large notebook. She looks up as I come in.
“Mommy!”
Amy jumps up and runs over to me. I grab her and hold her tightly, trying not to cry in relief at seeing her. Forcing back my distress, I concentrate on the woman.
“What’s going on here?”
“You’re Mrs Anderson?”
“It’s Ms Anderson.”
“Ms Anderson.” The woman picks up an ID that’s lying on the coffee table and shows it to her. “I’m Pamela Crier. I work for Child Protective Services.”
“Who called you in? Who is telling stories?”
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you. The calls are anonymous, after all.”
“Then why are you here?”
Ms Crier puts the ID down and shifts to sit on the edge of the chair.
“We received a phone call saying that your daughter was being left at home while you were at work, and that she was not being properly fed or cared for. There were a lot of details that we had to follow up on.”
I feel sick hearing this. I would never do anything to abuse my daughter. The thought of that disgusts me.
“Whoever told you that was lying. I’ve never done anything of the sort with Amy.” I nod at Carly. “I’m sure you’ve been told that already.”
“We’ve had a discussion. You two are…roommates?” Ms Crier raises her eyebrows. “She said that you two have lived together for years.”
Is she implying a sexual relationship between us? I don’t know whether to get angry or burst out laughing at the implication.
“Carly and I have known each other since university. We’ve lived together with another friend for eight years now.”
“I see. And Amy’s father? Is he around?”
I hesitate. I still haven’t told Amy about Luke. This is not how I wanted to do it.
“He’s around.” I choose my words carefully. “We’re not together, but we’re on good terms.”
“I will need to speak to him as well. We have to look at everyone in your daughter’s life.”
I know Amy is looking at me. She wants answers. How do I manage this? Choosing to focus elsewhere, I turn to Carly.
“Could you call him and ask if he’s available to come over? I need to speak to Ms Crier.”
“Of course.” Carly pauses and glances at the police officer. “Am I allowed to leave the room?”
“You’re not under arrest, miss.”
“You could have fooled me.” Carly stands up, nodding at me. “I’ll be right back.”
