Page 64 of Unconditional

My unfiltered gasp had Joan’s gaze shooting to me, flicking from my face to my feet and back again.“And who the hell are you?”

The officer made to bring her attention back to him, but I spoke first.“My name is Misely Fisher.I’m overseeing Benji’s case with the City of Chicago Children’s Center.”

“I thought Barbara was his caseworker.”It wasn’t a question.

Shaking my head, I mimicked her pose, cocking a hip and crossing my arms.Joan didn’t strike me as the type that liked dealing with stiffs.

“Barbara is with DCFS and we’ve been collaborating on Benji’s case while I was out of town.I have been working with Benji for about a year now, I’m surprised he didn’t mention me.”And maybe a little hurt, but I kept that to myself.This was one of those things that was definitely not about me or my personal feelings.Joan glared at me for several long moments, but I held my ground, cocking an eyebrow at her.

“Is Benji here or not?Because if he’s not, then we’re wasting a whole lot of time here when we could be out there looking for him.”

This seemed to be the first thing that caught the woman off guard, her eyes widening just a fraction before she blinked away the minor shock.“He’s right inside having breakfast.”

I’d almost forgotten the officer was there until he cleared his throat, making me jump.“We’ll need to have the boy come with us.”

I stepped in front of him, holding a finger up.This was already a very delicate situation and the last thing I wanted was to create yet another traumatic experience for Benji.“Hold on,” I said, meeting Joan’s eyes.“I’d like to take a look around, if that’s all right with you.Do you mind if we come inside?”I implored her the best I could with nothing but the steady stare held between us, pleading for her to just hear me out.

A moment later, she gave a small nod, opening the storm door wider for me to step through.I took in everything, making mental notes of the small but organized entry way, the living room that was warm and cozy, the dining room with the round table, and a twelve-year-old boy who sat eating a stack of fluffy pancakes.A breath I hadn’t known I was holding whooshed out of me and I had to force my feet to stay planted to the floor.

He was right there and was okay.More than okay.The clothes he wore were clean and until he saw me standing there, he looked utterly serene eating the warm breakfast that his aunt had made him.When he noticed me, his face went ghost white.

“Miss Misely, you—you’rehere.”His voice was very much, like a kid caught with his hands in the cookie jar and I had to resist laughing.The relief in knowing he was safe was almost too much to bear, even as he sat there looking like he was gearing up for the tongue lashing of a lifetime.

“I am so glad you are okay,” I said, letting the relief I felt seep fully into my voice.His expression went from apprehension to surprise and then to confusion, in that order.I took the liberty to sit across from him and smile, taking in his face.“But we have alotto talk about.”

forty-six

Misely

Collapsingintomybedat the end of the week had never felt so good.As much as I hadn’t wanted to, I’d had no other choice but to take Benji from Joan the day we found him.That was easier said than done, but promising him that I’d make things right had gotten him out the door.

It had broken my heart when he admitted that the Fredrick’s hadn’t actually hurt him—he was just so overwhelmed he couldn’t stand it.With his mom in jail, Joan across town, and me ‘wherever the hell I was,’ as he’d so delicately put it, he was desperate for some familiarity.So he did what so many other kids in his position did.He ran away to the safest place he knew—his great aunt Joan.

Who was very muchnotan ancient disabled woman incapable of caring for the boy as the court documentation had suggested.It was easy enough to figure out what had gone wrong there—the first time child protective services got involved, Benji was still a toddler and the state maintained its efforts to keep a child with their mother.When his mother told their caseworker at the time that Joan was not fit due to her age and abilities, they blindly believed her.

Even after Joan filed for custodythreeseparate times, her petitions were ignored.When I tracked down the filings to back up her claims, I wasfurious, immediately filing for gross negligence from the caseworker involved.To blindly dismiss a relative with only the testimony of the one accused of neglecting their child?I was furious.

It was transparent that Joan was the perfect guardian for Benji.She was obviously determined to care for him, and he trusted her.No matter how much he loved his mother, it would never come close to the way he trusted his aunt to be there.With both of their consent, I filed paperwork immediately, petitioning the presiding judge to grant emergency and permanent custody.To further back my belief that Joan would be fit and expedite the process, I sent in Patti and Barbara individually to investigate Joan’s home and submit their written opinions to the judge.

It took less than forty-eight hours for the judge’s decision to come back—permanent custody granted to one Miss Joan Wright, with supervised visitation with his mother at my office twice monthly.None of us were confident she would show up for the scheduled visits, but we all hoped.And now I could drop down in my bed and breathe a sigh of relief that I had not failed that child.That he was safe, warm, and cared for in a home with someone who loved him.

But without the busy-ness and panic of Benji’s urgent case, my mind was free to wander.And my heart free to splinter at memories of a week spent on the road with an infuriating man.

My gaze settled on two blue rubber ducks I'd shoved into my carry-on when I frantically left Birdie's.It felt as if they were staring at me from where I'd placed them on my dresser.Talon’s sharp eyes in my memory cut through my chest and pierced my heart, a strangled sob catching in my throat.The last thing I wanted to do was cry over him, trying fruitlessly to convince myself that he was not worth my tears.So what if behind the growled insults and rough hands he was actually very generous?What did it matter if deep in my heart I knew that the vitriol he’d spewed at me in Birdie’s kitchen was only spoken in fear?

He’d hurt me, and I was tired of people hurting me.I could accept that nobody was going to love me unconditionally or even authentically.Hell, even James, who had called while I was holed up in Birdie’s bedroom, had made it plain that I was not forever material.Apparently, hehadsaw my comment under his engagement photo, and just as I had hoped— it had struck a chord.What had he said?

“I wanted to tell you how sorry I am.I know you held out hope that there was a future for us and I am so sorry.I never lied…I loved you.But it was the kind of love someone has for someone they’ve always known.It was familiar.When I met her everything was different.She’s my future.”

Of course, I told him it was fine and I understood and I was over him.And at least some of it was true—I was well and truly over the man that had shattered my heart last year.How could I not be?When I knew exactly what he meant when he said everything was different the moment you saw that other person?When I had gone and let myself fall head over heels for someone that was absolutely thelastperson I should want?

It didn’t matter though, because Talon did not reciprocate.If he did, he would be here, wouldn’t he?Or he would’ve actually said something when I was leaving.Maybe he would’ve reached out in the week since I’d left Oregon.I’d spoken to Birdie almost every day, who’d confirmed that he was still there, sorting things out with Milo.But she never mentioned him wanting to speak to me, and he made no move to call himself.

Still, I suppose it gave me hope, that he was making an effort to do the right thing and not give into Kyle’s demands.But I didn’t ask her anymore questions about him or what they were planning.It was enough to know he wasn’t with his deranged uncle.Not that any of that helped with the constant burning in my chest, my hand now pressed to it trying to rub the hurt away.Nothing worked.

When my phone rang and Birdie’s fake name lit up the screen, I accepted the call gratefully, thrilled to have anything else but my heartache to think about.

Birdie had replaced one heartache with another.She’d been sitting on her questions all week, she said, waiting until she couldn’t possibly wait anymore.She wanted to know about the ‘dead friend’ that Talon had thrown at me so carelessly, and why she had never heard about her before.

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