The following morning, someone knocked on the door.
Before I opened it, I already knew who was outside.
Social services.
I had hoped for more time, but Melissa had taken matters into her own hands. Whenever she felt worried, she acted first and asked questions later.
Two social workers explained that they had come to take Lily into temporary care.
I understood that I had no legal right to keep her, no matter how strongly I felt she needed me.
“We’ll take her into care until we can sort things out,” one of the workers said.
Lily stood beside the kitchen table, clutching its edge.
“I… I just need a minute,” I stammered.
I knelt in front of her, my heart aching at the thought of watching her leave.
“Lily, sweetie, you have to go with them for now. They’re going to help you.”
Her frightened eyes locked onto mine.
“Please, don’t give me back. I’m scared.”
Her plea cut through me.
I wanted to promise that everything would be all right, but I had no way of knowing whether that was true. Behind me, I could feel Melissa watching.
Before I could say anything else, the social workers gently led Lily away and closed the door behind them.
My phone rang almost immediately.
It was James.
His voice was serious.
“Rachel, I found something,” he said. “Her name’s Lily, and she’s run away from home several times before. But every time, she’s been returned. They’ve never found anything wrong during inspections.”
“Do you have their address? Send it to me, please.”
The moment the call ended, Melissa began defending what she had done.
“You know, Rachel,” she said, “this is exactly why I had to call social services. You can’t just take in every kid that tugs at your heartstrings. You’re acting impulsively. And look! Now we have a mess on our hands.”
I tried to control my anger, but her words pushed me too far.
“A mess? You think this is a mess?” I shot back. “Lily needed help, and I wasn’t just going to turn my back on her. Maybe if you focused on fixing your own life, you wouldn’t be so quick to judge mine.”
Melissa looked away without answering.
I knew she wouldn’t understand, and I no longer had the energy to convince her.
“I need to go,” I said, taking my keys from the counter. “I’m going to figure this out.”
I filled a bottle with water, packed some crackers into my bag, and entered the address James had sent into my GPS.
I needed to reach Lily’s parents before social services did.
When I arrived, I immediately sensed something was wrong.
Paint peeled from the exterior walls. The windows were clouded with dirt, and weeds had overtaken the yard. The entire property looked as though no one had cared for it in months.
I knocked.
After a long pause, the door creaked open.
A pale, exhausted woman stood in the doorway. The sadness in her face told me she had to be Lily’s mother.
“Are you Gloria?” I asked softly.
She nodded slowly, as though the movement required effort.
“Yeah,” she whispered hoarsely.
“I’m Rachel,” I said. “I’ve been taking care of your daughter, Lily.”
At the sound of her daughter’s name, emotion flickered across Gloria’s face before giving way to deep sadness.
She stepped aside and allowed me into the house.
“I know,” she muttered as she sank onto a worn couch. “I know I can’t take care of her. Not anymore.”
Her honesty was painful.
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