Page 60
Story: Yesterday I Cared
But her legs wrap around me, pushing at me, her head laid back against a pillow. "Ronan," she whines, pulling me in again. "Move."
Nothing pulls you out of a dead sleep as effectively as a phone call in the middle of the night.
The shrill ringing breaks through the still silence of Mia’s bedroom, jerking me from a blissful dream featuring the woman beside me. A second before reality catches up with me, I stare up at the ceiling. Then I reach for the phone, fumbling to answer it, barely glancing at the screen.
Mia’s bedside clock glares 1:42 a.m. back at me in a harsh blue light. “’ello?”
“Coach Ronan?” Emmie’s voice sounds like she’s a hundred miles away instead of speaking directly into the receiver. “I…I need help.”
Twenty minutes later, Mia and I are pulling to a stop at the address Emmie texted. The red and blue lights bouncing off the houses blur my vision as we make our way toward the house. I’m looking everywhere; my gaze barely lands on one person before blinking to the next, trying to find Emmie.
Finally, I see her.
She’s dressed in pajama pants with an Adair hoodie on. Her hair is a mess, arms wrapped around herself for either protection or to keep out the chill. She’s talking to a female officer who has a stoic look onher face. Just off to the side, there’s a woman around my age dressed in a pantsuit, talking on the phone, but she’s keeping a close eye on Emmie. And I know, instantly, that this woman is a social worker.
Mia must see her at the same time as I do, because we both start heading toward her. Until a hand on my chest stops me dead in my tracks.
I blink at the officer, who came out of nowhere. “Sir, you need to stay back.”
“I…” The words die on my tongue as I look toward Emmie. How had I missed so many signs? “She…”
Emmie’s gaze jumps toward us then, her eyes widening before she crumbles. She says something to the officer she’s talking to, motioning toward us. Mia and I are being waved forward.
Mia’s there first, pulling the teen into a one-armed hug, asking her if she’s all right. I let my girl—I let Mia fret over her, but I squeeze her shoulder before facing the officer and social worker.
“Ronan O’Brien,” I introduce myself, shaking hands with both women. “I’m Emmie’s coach at Adair Swim Club. This is Mia Sheridan, who also works there.”
“Mr. O’Brien, my name is Penny Smith. I’m the social worker who’s been assigned to this case.”
I let my eyes scan over Emmie, who has no obvious injuries, before I focus back on Penny. “What happened?”
Penny and the officer exchange a glance before looking at Emmie. The officer is able to convince the young girl to go get checked over by the paramedics. She glances back at us, eyes wide with fear, exhaustion, and unshed tears. I give her my best reassuring smile, even though adrenaline is still pumping through my own veins. She turns to face the paramedic who met them.
My focus is pulled back to Penny, who starts filling us in on what’s been going on for years before having escalated in the lastfew months. In the year they’ve been here, the authorities have been called almost a dozen times by concerned neighbors and at least one teacher. Each time, Emmie’s mother has managed to skate by when CPS would follow-up on calls. She’d charm them with a wonderful personality, discussions of going back to school, and Emmie would stand by her mother. A well-practiced routine that managed to fool everyone. Until tonight.
Tonight, it was Emmie herself who called. She’d told the dispatcher that there was no food in the house, no electricity, or running water. Her mother had only been awake a handful of hours over the last few days, and she was worried about her. She’d shared how she’d been forced to lie in the past, not able to let the police know what her life is like, or that her mother is an addict incapable of taking care of anyone.
I feel bile rise in my throat. Mia’s grip around my bicep tightens with every word, and I try to remember what it’d been like when I was in her shoes. The first time I was confronted with a story like this. Over the years, it hasn’t gotten any easier to hear. I’m not sure it ever will. Which is probably for the best.
“So, what happens now?” Mia asks, looking between the social worker and officer.
“Emmie informed me that she has a half brother who is twenty-seven,” Penny explains, glancing down at her phone. “We’re still trying to get a good number for him.”
“Does he know anything about what Emmie has gone through?”
“According to Emmie, he tried getting her out the last time she saw him. Their mother was clean for a few years there and refused to relinquish her rights. Records indicate he tried to pursue it legally, but it didn’t go anywhere. The mother’s response to his attempt was to cut all contact between the sibling. Emmie doesn’t even know if he’s still in the state.”
I’ll never understand what people in positions of authority are thinking when children are involved in cases like this. The ultimate desire should be to keep them with their parents, but when a pattern is present, and a sibling is trying to protect another by getting them out of the situation they’ve already been in, they should be listened to. How much grief would it have saved Emmie if someone had listened to her brother?
Penny clears a message away from her phone. “The number Emmie was able to find is no longer in service. We’re hoping to get in contact with him tonight, though.”
Mia’s grip on my arm tightens even more. “What happens in the meantime?”
I already know the answer to her question.
Twenty minutes later, I’ve been cleared to take Emmie back to my place for the night. Penny assures me she’ll keep trying to get information on the brother and call me as soon as she gets in contact with him. We can only hope that he’s as receptive to getting her out of a horrible situation now as he was back then. Either way, I don’t think any of us are going to get much sleep tonight.
Before we leave, I go into the house with Emmie to grab a bag, and my heart breaks even more. Though it’s clear there’s not much money, the house is clean and well organized. I know it’s all Emmie’s doing. Emmie’s attempt at giving herself a normal, more stable life. I wonder if that’s what her brother had done for her before he got out.
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