Page 116 of I Am Salvation

She’s not mine to take.

She’s a minor. I have no right to this child.

God, I don’t want to call the police. I don’t want to call child services. I don’t want Bridget in their custody.

But if I take her now, I may never be able to care for her in the long term. I have to do what’s right. I have to follow the law.

“Bridget,” I say, “I’m sorry, but I have to call the police.”

She inhales sharply. “But my father told me you’d take care of me.”

“I wish I could. But if I take you without the legal right to do so, I could end up in prison. I can’t help you from there.”

“But…”

“The one person who has a right to you is your mother. I’ll find her, Bridget. I’ll find her, and then you and she can be together again.”

She grabs my arm. “Please…”

Oh God. Her voice. She even sounds like Griffin. Or does she? Do I even remember what my sister’s voice sounds like? She was five years old. She still had a baby voice. This girl is thirteen. She’s on the verge of womanhood.

If only…

But I can’t.

Besides, Diana and I can’t go after Griffin with a thirteen-year-old girl in tow. We wouldn’t be able to take care of her. We wouldn’t be able to guarantee her safety.

This is so fucked up.

“Bridget, did your mother ever tell you how she and your father came to be together?”

“Not really. I guess I never asked.”

“Does your father have a phone number?”

She scratches the side of her head. “I’ve seen him talk on the phone. But I don’t know the number.”

I cock my head. “How can that be? Didn’t you need to give a phone number to the administration at your school?”

“I don’t go to school. Mom teaches me at home.”

“Oh.” Makes sense, except… Griffin was taken when she was five years old. She had never even been to school. How could someone who never had any education teach another? Did Malcolm teach her? Did she somehow learn on her own?

So many questions, and I have no answers.

When my sister was taken, she didn’t even know how to read.

“What kind of things did your mother teach you?” I ask.

“The alphabet. Some songs. Colors, shapes.”

“Do you know how to read, Bridget?”

She frowns. “A little bit. I recognize some words. Mom is better at it than I am.”

Dear God…

Putting this young girl in the care of the state would be such a mistake. She has so much to learn.

---