Page 8 of No Sweet Goodbyes

I swallow down the nausea that has somehow been sitting in the back of my throat since I heard the gunshot, and I turn to stare at him with wide eyes.

“What?”

Half a smile lights up his face, and for a second I think he will reach for me, but he doesn’t move. “You heard me,” Dom answers, keeping his voice down. “I told you I had an idea. I meant it.”

He stares at me like I have the answer, like I know exactly what he’s talking about, and I don’t have the strength or sense to tell him that I don’t know anything.

“My mom is gonna come stay the night, after the social worker clears everything and approves them to foster her, I think.” He goes on, never looking away from me. “You know there’s a procedure and policy in place here, one that has to be followed. I know you’re tired, Emma. There’s a lot going on and it’s all kind of resting on your shoulders because you care about the little girl at the center of everything here. I see that. If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t be fighting so hard for her last night of peace.”

My lips purse on the sob that threatens to break free, and I realize why everything feels off. My own emotions, pushed aside while I made sure that Bee was taken care of, come rushing to the surface, and I can’t help the response.

Tears, unbidden, start to pool in my eyes.

“Don’t cry, Emma.” Dom reaches a hesitant hand up to brush the moisture from my cheeks. “You shouldn’t cry.”

“Why?” I sob quietly, trying not to choke on my tears. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I can,” he says simply, never taking his hand from my cheek. “Plus,” he adds with a wink, “my momma would beat my ass if I didn’t. You know her. Do you think she’d be okay with me not calling her when something’s breaking your heart?”

I almost don’t hear the knock on the door. Almost. Soft and gentle, three raps followed by silence. For a moment, I let myself stay in the warmth that Dom’s presence offers… the calm that he gives me in a situation that I can’t escape.

Dom gets up before I do, breaking the spell that I didn’t know has descended on us, and he takes his hand with him.

“That’ll be my mom and the social worker.”

I watch him open my front door and see his mother, standing there in a pair of bright-blue pajamas, and one of my friends from school standing next to her.

“Bria?”

Bria Keller walks in all business except for the twinkle in her eye that never seems to leave. She glances around before opening the binder in her hand.

“Hey, Emma,” she greets me. “Is Bianca Hart here? I’m assigned to her case and we were directed over here.”

I swallow down the happiness at seeing my friend and the thought that it may go easier because of that, and I nod. “Her mother had me babysit her for the night,” I fib only slightly. “And she fell asleep right after dinner.”

Bria nods, some of her blond hair escaping the loose braid hanging over her shoulder. “Okay.” She sighs deeply. “This whole thing sucks. But she’s going to be in good hands. The Ortiz family is amazing, and they’re one of my favorite fosters to work with. Bianca is going to be in good hands.” She repeats herself.

“Bee,” I correct. “She doesn’t like to be called Bianca. Her name is Bee.”

Standing there, in the entryway to my house, I feel less in control than I ever have in my entire life, and everything around me starts to spiral. “I’m not okay with this,” I go on. “I’m not okay with Bee being taken in the middle of the night. Let her sleep. I’m not a bad person.” I look over at Alta. “My family is a freakin’ pillar of the community. My brother’s a police officer, and he lives two houses down. She’s going to be fine here for the night.” Rational thought flees as I return to defending Bee. “If I don’t advocate for her, no one else will.” I glance toward the window, where I can still see flashing lights of police cruisers outside her house. “Her parents aren’t here to do it.”

“I’m not removing her from the home tonight,” Bria tells me after looking back down at her paperwork. “But only because Alta said that she’s going to stay here as well.” She gives me a sad smile. “I’m sorry that you’re caught in the middle of this crappy situation, but thank you for standing up for Bianca. Bee,” she corrects herself. “Not many people would, and you’re a good person, Emma.” She sighs. “It’s late, and I know you’ll want to get settled. But I’ll be back in the morning to make the notification and to make sure that Bee gets settled with Alta’s family.”

Bria leaves, and I stand there awkwardly, staring between Alta and Dom, who hadn’t said a single word while the other woman was there.

“You’ve got a good heart, mija.” Alta pulls me into a tight hug. “When Dom called, I knew it had to be something important. Your little Bee will be taken care of until they can find her familia. I’ll make sure of it.”

There aren’t words for the relief coursing through my veins. There may never be words for it.

“Thank you, Alta,” I manage to get out through the combination of her tight embrace and the emotion clogging my throat.

Over her shoulder, my eyes catch Dom staring.

“I guess we’re having a good ol’ fashioned sleepover.” His deep voice fills the air, cutting through the emotion. “Where’s your guest room? I can get Momma’s stuff from her car.”

Alta laughs. “Silly man. You don’t have to get my bag. I’m capable.” She lets me go and turns to her son with a smile.

Dom snorts and shakes his head like they’ve had this argument a million times before. “Dad’ll gut me with his hunting knife if I don’t. Ayudame, Emma. You know mama is his love.”

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