Page 109 of Raised By Wolves

I swear, once all this is over I’m not going to cry for another seventeen years.

“Holo and I just want to be with Wendy,” I say. “Lacey and the chief have been amazing to us, but Wendy is our mother.It doesn’t matter who gave birth to us. Whoever she is, she’s been gone for twelve years. If she’s alive—and I don’t think she is—she’s a stranger to us.”

“I understand your desire to stay with Wendy Marsden. But what about the fact that you have no home now?”

Yes, that’s definitely a problem.“We’ll build another one,” I say.

“Not on public land, I hope.”

“No.”

Not where you can find it, anyway.

“Has Wendy made any efforts to find new housing?”

“It’s only been ten days since that armed posse came to our house.”

“I’ll take that as a no,” Judge Bevins says, looking down at me over the top of her glasses.

I feel like her sympathies are changing. She doesn’t like Howells any more than we do, but that doesn’t matter. In the eyes of the court, Wendy hasn’t behaved like a proper mother.

The tears I kept from falling in front of Waylon spill out of my eyes, down my cheeks, and onto my stupid, uncomfortable blouse.

“You have to understand,” I say, my voice breaking. “The three of us never had that much, and now we’ve lost it all. The house—the wolves—the life that we made. All we have left is each other.” I look out to the room and meet Waylon’s gaze, and then I look to Lacey and the chief. “And a few people who care about us. The rest of the world doesn’t want us. It doesn’t understand us.” Then I narrow my eyes at Howells. At the people from Kokanee Creek who’ve come to watch our fates be decided by strangers. “It thinks we belong in a cage.”

Holo’s face is buried in Wendy’s shoulder. She’s crying, and I know he is, too.

“We aren’t dangerous,” I say pleadingly. “We’re not troubled. And we’re not wild animals. We’re just people who live a different life than you do. People who care about different things, like trees and deer and wide-open spaces, and who don’t care about air conditioning or fast food restaurants or high school or any of the shit you all think is important!” Judge Bevins raises one silver eyebrow. “I’m sorry, Your Honor,” I say quickly. “I meant to say ‘stuff.’”

She nods. “Thank you, Kai,” she says. “You’re a well-spoken young lady. Most of the time.” And then she smiles at me as if she likes me.

And I tell myself that everything’s going to be all right.

CHAPTER 86

AN HOUR AFTER the lawyers make their closing statements, Judge Bevins strides back into the courtroom. Her expression is impossible to read. She sits down and carefully spreads her black robe around her. It’s like she’s trying to take as much time as possible while the whole room holds its breath. Except for Holo, who sniffs at the air like he might be able tosmellwhat she’s thinking.

I’m gripping Wendy’s hand with my left hand and Holo’s with my right; Holo’s also squeezing Lacey’s fingers so tight that his knuckles are bloodless.

Judge Bevins leans forward and speaks into the microphone. “This is one of the more difficult decisions I’ve had to make,” she says slowly. “One must weigh the integrity of the family unit against the integrity of its actions. The matter of love versus the matter of the law.” The microphone squawks, and Judge Bevins jumps a little. Frowns. “Children belong with their parents, whenever this is possible. But what if there are no parents to be found? No relatives?” She pauses. Foldsher hands together in front of her chest. “Then they must become the wards of the state until a permanent home can be found for them.”

“No!” I scream before anyone can shush me. “You can’t do this!”

“Kai,” Adkins says. “Be quiet.”

“In some circumstances,” the judge goes on, “the court could see fit to let minors reside with the woman who has been caring for them. But considering how habitually and unrepentantly Wendy Marsden broke the law—and seems to have encouraged the minors in her care to do the same—we cannot in good conscience allow her to raise two more offenders.”

Beside me, Wendy and Lacey are sobbing. The chief’s face is red and furious. But the judge isn’t done.

“And considering Kai and Holo’s record of misdemeanors and altercations, we believe it is best for them to take up residence at the Brookside Juvenile Facility.”

Shock and fury keep my tears at bay. I stand up and shout, “Who are you to say what’s best for us? You don’t know anything about us!”

Everyone in the courtroom audience is suddenly talking at the same time. Are they glad we’re going? Do they think that justice has been served? I don’t know and I don’t care.

“You can’t make us go!” I scream.

Judge Bevins slams the gavel. “Quiet!” she yells. “I have rendered my decision.”

---