Page 85 of Finding Home

“Yes. He’s adorable with her. It’s the cutest thing, ever.”

With prompting, Miranda launches into explaining her recent visit to Prairie Springs, and all the specific things she witnessed that have caused her to conclude her niece would be in good hands with me, as her full-time, custodial parent.

“Aubrey and her family should always be in her life, too, though,” Miranda adds, unprompted. “They’re family now. That was clear to me when I spent time with everyone in Prairie Springs.”

I scribble a note on the pad between Aubrey and me:So far, so good.

Honestly, I can’t fathom the glowing, unqualified review Miranda is giving of me—under oath, no less—when I know full well I’ve pissed her off, endlessly, over the years. But then again, I can’t imagine my sister would say any of this, if she didn’t truly believe it’d be the best thing for Raine. Knowing Miranda, she’d pick Raine’s wellbeing over my wishes, any day. And rightly so.

After a while, Ralph’s attorney gets the chance to cross-examine my sister. With a smirk, he immediately goes for the jugular. “You’ve personally witnessed your brother being violent on many occasions, have you not?”

“Several times. But not in a long while.”

Jesus. Here we go.

“Severaltimes?” Ralph’s attorney sneers. “Please, list them all for me.”

“Allof them?” Miranda gasps out, like he’s asking her to name every star in the galaxy, and it’s all I can do not topalm my fucking forehead.What the fuck, Miranda? Play some goddamned chess, dude, not simple checkers.

“Okay, well, when I was about ten, I’d say,” Miranda begins, “I witnessed my teenage big brother, Caleb, punching my father in the face for the first, but not the last, time. I believe Caleb punched him twice that time, but it might have been more. Either way, he did it to stop our father from beating the crap out of our mother. That’s what Caleb had to do several times over the years. Always for the same reason. Until finally, Caleb’s band took off and he got rich, so he was able to get our mother away from our father for good.”

Ralph’s lawyer shifts his weight and checks his notes on the lectern. Clearly, that wasn’t the answer he was expecting.

“Should I go on?” Miranda asks, breaking the thick silence.

“Sure,” the lawyer says, sounding a tad less confident than before.

Miranda takes a deep breath. “About ten years ago, Caleb got home from tour and found out this awful boyfriend of mine had gotten a bit rough with me during an argument, so my brother drove over to my apartment and beat the crap out of him. I’d already broken up with the loser by then, so I told Caleb not to bother with him. But he wouldn’t listen. He said, ‘And what about the next woman he dates? What will he do to her, if he thinks there’s never going to be any consequences for his bad behavior?’” Miranda smirks. “So, anyway, he drove me to my ex’s place and beat him up, while I waited in the car. And then, he called me inside and made my ex get on his knees in front of me, while his face was all bloody and gross, and apologize to me.” She bites back a smile. “Caleb made him apologizeand beg for my forgiveness—and he made him do it in a teeny-tiny baby voice.”

Really, Miranda? She seriously thinks that cute little detail is helpful here? Fuck me.

I look down at my hands on the table, so the judge won’t see whatever’s on my face. I’m deeply concerned my sister is unwittingly torpedoing my chances here today. But I’m also, honestly, kind of proud of that moment, and I don’t want the judge—or Paula—to see my face, in case I’m involuntarily smiling at the delicious memory.

“I should also mention,” Miranda continues, “that my brother also made that guy promise not to do anything like that, ever again, to anyone else. Or Caleb said he’d find out and come back and do much worse to the guy. Honestly, I’m not sure how Caleb would have been able to deliver on that threat, but he seemed pretty convincing at the time, and the guy swore up and down he’d never, ever lay a pinky on anyone else.”

Ralph’s attorney sighs. “Is that everything?”

Miranda considers. “No. But I think that’s enough for you to get the gist, right?”

“No, I want you to tell meeverything.”

With a long, put-upon sigh, Miranda leans back in her chair. “If you insist.” She pauses. “Okay, well, around five years ago, some guy in a bar grabbed my ass—sorry, your honor, mybottom—and my brother knocked the jerk out cold with one punch.” Miranda smiles at me. “The whole bar cheered him on, and a female bartender sent my brother a big bottle of champagne to thank him. Apparently, the guy was a known menace at that bar, a friend of the owner’s, apparently, who couldn’t be banned; and the whole bar was thrilled to watch him go down.”

“Was he badly hurt?”

“Nah. He was fine. His ego was bruised more than anything, I think.” Miranda taps her chin. “Another time, not sure when, exactly, years ago, this guy in Paris grabbed my mother’s arm, really hard, and insisted she convince Caleb to take a selfie with him. My mother and I had joined Caleb for the European leg of his tour, so we were traveling with him and the band. So, anyway, this guy grabbed my mother with such a hard and scary grip, she screamed really loudly. So, Caleb flew into action and pushed the guy away from our mother. The guy wound up falling back and hitting his head on the sidewalk and going to the hospital. Apparently, he filed a lawsuit against Caleb later, but it was thrown out because the whole thing was caught on video and the judge declared Caleb’s actions ‘totally justified in defense of his mother.’”

With a smirk, Miranda takes a long drink of water. As she does that, it feels like everyone in the courtroom, including the judge, is waiting with bated breath for her next stomach-churning story about me.

“Another time,” my sister finally says, replacing her cup, “I was dating this guy in LA who’d get super sloppy and offensive when he was drunk.” She looks at the judge. “Yeah, I really know how to pick ‘em, your honor.” She returns to Ralph’s attorney. “So, anyway, he said something outrageously horrible about me while playing pool in a bar, and, unfortunately for him, my brother overheard him, even though I didn’t. And the next thing I knew, my brother was dragging my boyfriend into the bathroom and washing his mouth out with soap.” Miranda snickers and bites back a smile. “Everyone in the bar who’d heard the comment said it was really gross and Caleb was totally justified. One person even told me Caleb let the guy off easy. I never found out exactly what he’d said, though, so . . . ”She shrugs. “I wish I knew, honestly. Sounds like it was juicy.”

I hang my head, feeling sick. All these stories, told in rapid succession, make me sound like a goddamned, unhinged lunatic. I don’t think my sister is making it clear enough all these stories happenedyearsapart. Also, I haven’t done that kind of shit in a very long time, other than when I slapped Trent, of course. But besides that, the last time I hit someone was when I punched Violet’s now-husband, Dax Morgan, years ago, in the face. Thanks to Miranda, however, I’m sure the judge thinks this kind of violent behavior is a daily thing for me.

“Anything else?” Ralph’s attorney asks. “Anything at all?”

“That I’vepersonallywitnessed? No, that’s it, I think.”

Shit.The way Miranda saidpersonally, it’s going to make Ralph’s attorney ask?—

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