Page 103 of Until Nalia

“Nalia.”

“Hi, Sharon.”

“Hi, Sharon? Are you serious? I just got a letter from an attorney telling me that you are trying to terminate my rights.”

“Sharon.”

“She’s my daughter, you moved with her across the country, so I have no way to see her and now you don’t want me to talk to her.”

“Of course she can talk to you, but you told me that you were having second thoughts about the fact that you signed over custody to me, and that scared the shit out of me.”

“So, you’re punishing me.”

“No, I’m protecting Zuri.”

“How is this protecting her?”

“With this in place, you can’t just decide that because you’re pissed at her for not e-mailing you back that she would be better off with some random person or tossed into a group home.”

“She’s been ignoring my e-mails.”

“All of your e-mails have centered around you asking her to ask me for money so you can get a lawyer. Not once have you asked how school is going, how she likes soccer, if she’s making friends, or if she is even just doing okay.” And I know this to be true because I’ve been checking her e-mail since everything happened.

“I want a lawyer so I can get out of this place and be with her again,” she bites out, missing everything I just said.

“Well, I’m sorry, I don’t have the money to pay for your lawyer.”

“But you found the money to get a lawyer for yourself.” My jaw clenches.

“Yes, to protect Zuri and make sure she is safe, I got a lawyer. And I will bleed myself dry, Sharon, so that she never has to worry about being taken from me because you are too fucking selfish to realize that she is in a good place.”

“She should be with me.”

“Well, then maybe you shouldn’t have been doing the stupid crap that you were doing, and maybe you should have focused on being a mo…” I’m cut off when that same animated voice comes on and asks if Sharon is willing to pay for more time.

“I’ve tried to be a good mother,” Sharon says, surprising me. I figured she’d hang up. “And despite what you might think, I have loved my kids, all of my kids, even you.”

“Sometimes saying you love someone isn’t enough,” I tell her, and the line goes quiet, so quiet I wonder if she hung up. Still, I add softly, “Sharon, it’s not my intention to keep Zuri from you. I would never do that.”

“I miss her.”

“I know, because if I were in your shoes and Zuri was separated from me, I’d feel like part of me was missing.” My throat gets tight, and once more the line goes quiet.

“Will you tell her I miss her?”

“You can tell her that yourself.”

“Okay.” She sounds choked up. “Please tell her that I’m e-mailing her today and that it has nothing to do with asking for money.”

“I will.” I let out a breath when she says goodbye and ends the call. I’m not sure that conversation went well, but I do know it could have gone worse. I just really fricking hope that I got through to her; otherwise, she’s going to lose Zuri and it will be no one’s fault but her own.

When I arrive at the school a few minutes later, I tell the woman at the desk that I’m there to pick up Zuri early and she calls up to the teacher to have her sent down to meet me. When she walks into the office with her backpack, I notice that the pink zip up hoodie and jeans she wore to school are stained with dirt from her fall.

“Hey.” I give her a hug. “Ready?” Nodding, she follows me out the front doors and gets into the backseat of the Bronco with her bag. “You okay?” I meet her gaze in the rearview mirror before even putting the key in the ignition.

“Yes.”

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”