Page 71 of Piggy

“Now makeup!” someone calls.

By the end of the night, I’m standing in the bathroom, staring at my reflection.

I don’t recognize myself.

But Ilovewhat I see.

For the first time in months, I feel beautiful, and not because of Grayson.

When I return to the living room, a uniformed man bursts through the front door, followed by another and another. They have rifles drawn, lots of tactical gear, and thick bullet-proof vests.

Holy—!

They yell, “Get down! Get down!”

Some people try to run out the back way, but more officers greet them.

Chapter 20

Charlotte

The lawyer, Nevin, a man with kind eyes, light brown hair, and a sweet smile, leans back in his chair. He tries to soften the blow, but his shrug says it all.

“I’m sorry. The court determined you don’t have adequate living arrangements or financial stability to care for Atticus. Even though your older brother signed over guardianship rights during their sentencing, the judge didn’t believe you can—”

“Atticuswantsto be with me!” My voice breaks. “Heneedsto be with me. He won’t do well in some random foster home. Do they even know how to care for someone with autism?”

Nevin folds his hands. “I understand your frustration. But if you want the court to reconsider, you’ll need stable housing. That’s the first step. Your mother’s home is being foreclosed.”

“I didn’t know Brax stopped paying the mortgage!” My heart races. “Iorganizedthe bills for him. I thought—”

“That’s part of the problem,” he interrupts gently. “The home was used to sell drugs. The court sees that as an unsafe environment. It looks negligent.”

“But I passed the drug test! IswearI didn’t know Brax was dealing.”

He sighs and leans forward, elbows resting on the desk. “I’m going to be straight with you. You need to catch up on the mortgage or find a new place to live. Something suitable, with space for Atticus. You’ll need a plan to show the court how you’re going to support his condition. Therapy, structure, stability.”

I stare at him, stunned.

“He told the court he stayed in his room most of the time. That he was overwhelmed by loud noises. That he was bored. Lonely. Stressed.”

I blink rapidly. My throat burns. “We were both pretty miserable.”

“I know you love him,” he says gently. “But right now, love isn’t enough.”

I nod, but it’s slow. My limbs feel numb.

I’m losing him.

How the hell am I going to find twenty grand to cover the mortgage? Even if I work overtime every day, it’s not enough. I could try to rent, but with my job? I can’t even afford a one-bedroom. And Atticusneedshis own room. Heneedsquiet. Routine. Safety.

And I couldn’t give him that.

Guilt hits hard and fast. My chest caves.

How could Brax do this to us?

I come home to silence.