Before I Let You Go(26)

“Only the court staff can be in attendance.”

“But . . . aren’t I the one in trouble?”

“Well, yes . . .”

“But I can’t even have my own lawyer? Isn’t that in the Miranda rights?”

“This hearing tomorrow isn’t a criminal trial. It’s just about the baby. They . . .”

I can’t say it. I try several times, but the words stubbornly refuse to leave my mouth. I meet Annie’s gaze, and her face falls.

“They want to take it away from me already, don’t they?”

“The hearing tomorrow is to remove your parental rights.”

“They aren’t even going to give me a chance to try to raise it?” she whispers, and her eyes fill with tears. She squeezes them shut and sinks back onto the pillow. “No, Lexie. Please, no.”

I take her hand firmly in mine and press on.

“If the judge agrees with CPS tomorrow . . . they’ll appoint a lawyer to the baby, and he will make the decisions about your treatment from here on in.”

Annie’s eyes open. Her brow furrows as she digests this. When she speaks, she’s uncertain.

“Wait—you’re saying I don’t get a lawyer, but the baby does?”

“That’s right.”

“And this lawyer is going to make decisions about my treatment now?”

“Until the birth, yes.”

“But . . . I’m already doing everything the doctors have said,” Annie says. “Isn’t that enough?”

“The court is just going to try to ensure that the baby is safe.”

“Safe,” Annie repeats, and her voice is no longer in a whisper. Her nostrils flare, and now she’s staring at me, the beginnings of rage simmering just below the surface. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Annie, don’t get defensive,” I say softly.

“Defensive? You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re telling me that some lawyer is going to decide what’s best for my body and my baby—”

I cut her off as her voice begins to rise. There’s more she needs to know, and I need to keep the conversation moving forward—I can’t afford to get distracted by an argument with her now. Particularly not when I actually agree with pretty much everything she’s saying.

“The judge is probably going to send you to rehab and give you a chance to get better set up for the baby . . . but as long as you do exactly what he wants, there’s a good chance the DA will drop the chemical endangerment charge.”

“Right.” Annie sighs, shaking her head. “So it’s that easy, is it?”

“Well, at least it’s not hopeless, not if you follow through with whatever they ask of you. If you can get and stay clean, this is all going to work out okay—and I know that’s what you want, too.” Annie doesn’t respond. I shake her forearm and say pointedly, “Isn’t it?”

“Of course it is.”

“The thing is, Annie . . . if . . . and I’m not saying this is going to happen, but . . .” The damned lump in my throat is back. Annie seems to refocus and fixes her gaze on me again. I exhale and press on. “If you can’t satisfy the judge’s requirements, then it might mean prison time.”

“I know,” she says, and I’m surprised.

“You do?”

“I told you back at the trailer. My friend was charged last year.” Annie glances at me, then away. “I don’t think you realize what we’re dealing with here, Lexie.”

“Maybe I don’t really understand. Maybe I can’t. But I’ll tell you one thing, it doesn’t really matter whether I understand or not. Whatever is coming, I’ll be right beside you every step of the way.”

“Even though I’ve let you down again and again?” she murmurs. She’s staring at the roof now, dry-eyed but miserable.

“I’ve missed you,” I say simply, and Annie glances at me.

Her gaze searches mine, then she offers me a sad smile and admits, “I’ve missed you, too.”

“We’re going to face this together, okay?”

Annie nods.

“Lexie, all that I want to do is k-keep my baby,” she says, and as her voice breaks, she reaches for me and starts to cry. I wrap my arms around her and hold her close against me.

Tomorrow’s hearing could bring anything, but I know one thing for sure. Two years’ distance from Annie has melted away into nothing in under twenty-four hours—we’re instantly close again, in a way that only sisters can understand. Our history—all of it, the good, the bad, the ugly—it’s built an intimacy between us that’s immune to the ravages of time and distance. This new situation I’m navigating with Annie is stressful and difficult, but on some level, I’m actually relieved that she’s returned. I’ll pay the price of dealing with this mess if it means I can have my sister back.

What Annie is facing is a nightmare—but she is my sister. I’d never want her to face this alone.

There’s nothing I can do to convince my brain to switch off when I try to go to sleep. Even when I do sleep, my dreams are haunted by shadowy scenarios of Annie in a prison cell while her baby lies screaming, out of her reach on the other side of the bars. When the sun rises, I sit at the kitchen table with Sam, and we nurse strong coffees.