By the third visit, Elsie was handing her blocks. By the tenth, Micah was sitting next to her, telling her about a bug he found. Children are pragmatic survivors; they bend toward the light of consistency. Delaney was showing up, entirely sober, entirely present, week after week.
Four months later, the date for the permanent custody hearing arrived.
I sat in the mahogany-paneled courtroom, dressed in my best navy suit, a thick file of therapy notes and pediatric reports sitting on the table in front of me. Delaney sat across the aisle. She wore a simple beige blouse, her hair neat, her bruising fully healed. She looked terrified.
