Page 6 of Seen Knot Heard

“Don’t talk about Quinn like that!” I roar, then temper my anger when Sadie flinches. Voice softening, I continue, “Sadie, please. Think about Quinn. She needs a stable and safe home. Let me take care of her so you have space to focus on your own health.”

Sadie’s face crumples, tears welling. “I can look after my own daughter. I just need something to take the edge off. To get me through this. If you really cared, you’d help me.”

Her desperation cuts me to the bone. I long to protect her from the demons haunting her.

But it’s not that simple, and no promises she gives right now will stick. “I do care. That’s why I can’t enable your addiction. You require help,realhelp, to get better. For yourself and for Quinn.”

Face twisting with hate, she sits on the cot in the corner of the room, her shoulders hunched, bleached-blond hair hanging in strings around her gaunt face.

Those golden-brown eyes, so like our father’s, turn calculated. “I can’t think straight through the pounding in my head. If you check me out of here for a couple of hours, buy me a drink to take the edge off, then I’ll be able to focus on the paperwork.”

My jaw clenches at the manipulative tactic. No way she’ll sign the document if I give in to her demand. “No, you need to stay. This is the only way you’re going to heal, so you can be present for Quinn. She needs her mom.”

Resentment flashes across Sadie’s gaunt face. “Don’t you dare use my daughter against me! This is your fault, all of it! You’re the reason I’m stuck in this hellhole!”

“It’s only been a week,” I whisper, but she doesn’t hear me, too lost in whatever imaginary scenario she’s come up with to turn herself into the victim.

“You did this so you could take Quinn from me!” she rages. “You’ve always wanted her, ever since she was born! Always meddling in my business.”

Her words sting, each one a barb straight to my heart.

I tell myself she’s lashing out, that if she were sober, she’d realize I’ve always been there for her, that the alcohol hastwisted her mind. But it doesn’t take the pain out of knowing she blames me, has always blamed me, for not fixing everything, for not standing by her every time she screws up her life.

The scent of her anger, acrid and burning, mixes with the foul odors clinging to her. I can’t remember a time when she didn’t smell like stale booze and cigarettes, when she wasn’t chasing her next drink.

“Where’s Dad?” Sadie demands, her tactics shifting. “He’ll take me out of here. He won’t leave me to rot in this place.”

I hesitate, dreading telling her the truth. “Dad’s not coming, Sadie. He’s out of town on business and has no plans to cut his trip short.”

Sadie rears back as if slapped, a humorless laugh escaping her chapped lips. “Of course not. Why would he bother with his screw-up daughter? He’s never been there when I needed him, not once in my whole damned life.”

My mouth opens, then closes, unable to say she’s wrong and unwilling to lie.

Sadie’s anger crumples, replaced by a flood of tears spilling down her hollowed cheeks. She points an accusing finger at me, her hand trembling. “You’re just like him! Cold, heartless, abandoning me when I need you the most.”

The words pierce through the armor I tried to build around my heart. “Sadie, no, I’m trying to help you. Iloveyou. This is the only way?—”

“Liar!” she shouts. “If you loved me, you wouldn’t leave me here to suffer!”

Her sobs fill the room, and I stand helpless, watching as she curls inward, her thin shoulders shaking. The urge to gather her in my arms, to promise her everything will be okay, overwhelms me. But I do none of that. Empty promises will only hurt her more in the end.

I can’t save her. Not if she refuses to save herself.

The bitter truth settles like a lead weight in my stomach. All I can do is hope that this time, something will be different. That this time, she’ll find the strength to kick the addiction.

I kneel in front of her, thrusting the guardianship paperwork under her nose. “Please, Sadie. Allow me to take care of Quinn. Let me ease this one burden for you.”

Her tears stop as if they never started.

“Please,” I beg my sister. “Sign the document. Give Quinn a chance at a better life.”

Slowly, her fingers curl around the pen I offer, and she scribbles her name across the bottom line. Dropping the pen, she turns her head away. “Get out, and don’t come back.”

Relief sweeps through me, and I fold the documents, backing away.

When the orderly returns to escort me out, Sadie doesn’t raise her head.

I pause in the doorway, the papers still clutched in my hand. “I love you, Sadie. I’ll come back when the doctors say you’re better.”

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