Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 60978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
With her parting shot, Ms. Winters brushed past me into the corridor, leaving the room several degrees colder in her wake.
Ms. Winters left the door open. The tension in the room thickened as Ms. Jans turned toward me with the wariness of a cornered animal. She shifted to place herself more firmly between me and her daughter. Her eyes, the same shade of blue as Lily’s but hardened by worry, assessed me from head to toe. The woman at Haven often gave men in the club they met for the first time the same look.
“I should go,” I said, taking a step back toward the door. The last thing this woman needed was another perceived threat in her life.
“No, stay,” Lily called out, her small voice surprisingly authoritative for someone so tiny. “I want to show Mommy how you sing.”
Ms. Jans’ gaze flickered between her daughter and me, her posture rigid, hands still clenched at her sides. The protective instinct radiating from her was almost tangible, a force field surrounding her child.
“Lily, Mr. Kingston probably needs to get back to work,” she said carefully, her tone gentle with her daughter but her eyes still fixed warily on me.
“Cash,” I corrected automatically. “Everyone calls me Cash.”
“He made me feel better when you were gone, Mommy,” Lily continued, ignoring her mother’s attempt to dismiss me. “I was crying because I missed you, and he sang to me like you do. He has a pretty voice, like the radio. He’s my new friend.”
Ms. Jans looked at her daughter, then back at me, reassessing. She nodded slowly, some of the tension easing from her shoulders. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “For being kind to Lily.”
I shuffled my feet, uncomfortable with the gratitude. “Anyone would have done the same.”
“No,” she said with surprising firmness. “They wouldn’t have. Most people don’t want to get involved.” She ducked her head. “Or just don’t care.”
Before I could respond, Ms. Winters stepped back into the room, her tablet still clutched to her chest like a shield. Her eyes darted between Ms. Jans and me, clearly surprised to find me still there.
“I forgot to mention,” she said, her tone professionally detached but her eyes cold. “I’ll need contact information for Lily’s father. The paperwork you filled out listed him as ‘unknown.’”
Ms. Jans stiffened again. “As I’ve explained before, there is no father in the picture. It’s just Lily and me.”
Ms. Winters made a small note on her clipboard. “I see. And how do you manage childcare while working your… two jobs, was it?”
The question was posed innocently enough, but I caught the implication. Two jobs meant time away from Lily, meant potential neglect, meant more marks against Ms. Jans in whatever report Ms. Winters was compiling.
“I have a neighbor who watches her after school until I get home from my day job,” Ms. Jans replied, her voice tight. “My evening job allows me to work from home most nights.”
Ms. Winters nodded without looking up from her notes. “And this neighbor, they’re qualified to handle a child with Lily’s frequent medical issues?”
Ms. Jans’ face flushed. “Mrs. Abernathy raised five children of her own. She knows to call me immediately if Lily so much as sneezes.”
Ms. Winters made another note, then finally looked up, her gaze landing on me.
“Mr. Kingston,” she said, her voice taking on a warning tone, “I should remind you again your interactions here are strictly limited to your assigned duties.” She glanced at my mop bucket, still sitting abandoned in the hallway. “And I’m sure those duties don’t include socializing with vulnerable minors.”
My jaw clenched, but I kept my expression neutral. Getting angry would only make things worse for Lily and her mother. “Just finishing up my section, ma’am,” I said evenly. “I didn’t want to seem rude, especially not to the girl. Seems she’s had a hard enough time of it.”
Ms. Winters looked frustrated but nodded, then turned back to Ms. Jans. “I’ll be speaking with Dr. Samson about Lily’s medical history, and I’ll also need to schedule a home visit.”
“I understand,” Ms. Jans replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
With one final glance at me, Ms. Winters left the room again. Yeah, message received.
Ms. Jans stood frozen in place for a long moment, staring at the door. Then, as if a string had been cut, her rigid posture collapsed. She sank into the chair beside Lily’s bed, her shoulders hunching forward as her composure crumbled.
“Mommy?” Lily’s voice was small and worried.
“It’s OK, baby,” Ms. Jans said, visibly fighting to keep her voice steady. She turned her face away from her daughter, but I could see the tears welling in her eyes, the trembling of her lower lip as she struggled to maintain control. “It’s all going to be fine. We’re fine.”
I stood awkwardly by the door, unsure whether to stay or go. This felt private, a moment I had no right to witness. But leaving now felt wrong too, like abandoning them both to a weight too heavy to bear alone when I could shoulder everything.