The Perfect Child(82)

Someone knocked at our door. Everyone always knocked before coming in, but it was more of a formality than anything else. No one ever waited for you to invite them inside. Piper walked in with a man and a woman dressed in civilian clothes. I’d never seen them before.

“Hi, Hannah,” Piper said.

Hannah gave her an almost imperceptible nod.

“Hi, Christopher,” Piper said.

“Hi.”

We stood there awkwardly. Why wasn’t she introducing me to the people with her?

Piper cleared her throat. I’d never seen her look so nervous. She kept clearing her throat like there was something stuck there before she finally worked up the nerve to speak. “This is a very difficult conversation for me to have, and I’m not sure how to get started, so I think I’m just going to cut to the chase.” She looked at me since it was impossible to make eye contact with Hannah, who still paced the room. “Given that Cole sustained a head injury in the way that he did, the hospital social worker made another report to the Department of Children’s Services that they suspected child abuse was going on in your home. This is the second time the hospital has made a report, and by law, we have to investigate it.”

I understood child-protection laws. I’d made similar reports before. We all had. It was always better to be safe than sorry.

“During the investigation, the children have to be removed from the home.” Her voice got softer with each word.

“What? Why? Where would they even go?” I looked to Hannah to gauge her reaction, but it didn’t look like she was even paying attention. How could she ignore this? I wanted to shake her, get her to snap out of whatever stupor she’d been in. I couldn’t go through all this without her.

“I spoke with Allison this morning, and she agreed to take the kids until this all blows over. I’m sorry, Christopher. I really am,” she said. The two individuals with her moved forward to stand beside her. “These are my colleagues, Marilyn Fragick and Josh Hoff. They are going to transport Cole to Allison’s.”

“What? We can’t even bring him to Allison’s? You have to take him there?”

She nodded. Tears filled her eyes. “I know this is hard, and if there was anything I could’ve done to prevent it, I would have.”

A knot of anxiety balled in my stomach.

She placed her hand on my back. “You can follow us there if you want.” She shrugged at my confused expression. “I know. Some of the policies don’t make any sense. We have to be the ones to make sure he gets into proper custody—”

“And they don’t trust us to get him there?”

“Of course I trust you, but they don’t know you. It’s just policy. You understand that.”

I turned to Hannah. “Do you want to follow them there?”

She’d moved back against the window, cradling Cole against her chest with both hands. Panic filled her eyes, her body tense.

“Hannah?” I took a step toward her. “Hannah?”

She shook her head. Her eyes flitted around the room.

“I know this is hard, hon, but it’s only like ten minutes that we’d be away from him. It’s just for the drive.”

She shook her head again.

I reached for her.

“No!” she screamed and jerked back.

I stopped, stunned. Piper came up behind me. She reached her hands out toward Cole. “Hannah, give him to me,” she said gently.

“No!” she screamed. “Get away from me! You can’t have him! You can’t take him! He can’t stay there!”

“Hannah, calm down. They’re just taking him to Allison’s. It’s not like they’re taking him to a stranger. She’ll take wonderful care of him.” I reached for her arm, but she moved too quickly, stepping out of my reach. She grabbed the nightstand and shoved it at us. The empty tray on top flew across the room and slammed into the wall before clattering to the floor.

“Get away from me. I’m warning you. Don’t come near me. If you come near me, I’ll jump out this window.” Her eyes were wild, her body tense, ready to fight. Cole let out a wail. “Shh . . . shhh . . . it’s okay.” She frantically jiggled him.

“See, you’re scaring Cole. Just stop now. Give him to me.” I motioned for him. “Hannah, please. Hannah . . .”

She plastered herself against the window. Her nostrils flared in and out. She clawed at the window behind her while staring at each of us, daring us to move. “I’ll do it. I swear to God, I’ll do it, Christopher. Get away.”

A voice from behind me said, “Somebody call psych.”





FIFTY-TWO

HANNAH BAUER

I wanted to scream, but it was caught in my throat. There was water between my legs from wetting myself. My eyes snapped open. I tried to move. I couldn’t. My hands and legs were restricted, strapped down. I fought against the restraints. It was no use. I couldn’t break free. My spine throbbed all the way through my tailbone.

I scanned left to right and back again, searching for someone—anyone—to help me. There was nothing but four cement walls surrounding me and fluorescent lights above me. No windows. No door. The smell of hospital assaulted me. My heart pounded, threatening to explode. I was covered in sweat. Panic clawed at my throat.