Chapter 7: The Review
Carol Marsh had two other people in her office when we arrived.
She introduced them as David Reyes, a senior caseworker from the regional oversight division, and a woman named Pauline Okafor who Carol described only as being there to support Mia through the interview process.
Pauline had a calm face and a soft voice and she shook Mia's hand like she had all the time in the world.
"Mia," Carol said, "we're going to talk with you separately, if that's okay.
Your dad can wait just outside."
Mia looked at me.
"I'll be right outside the door," I said.
She nodded.
Followed Pauline into the small side room.
The door didn't fully close — I could see the edge of Mia's sleeve, the back of Pauline's chair.
Carol turned to me.
"While they're talking, I want to update you on a few things."
David Reyes opened a folder on the table.
"We pulled Vanessa Cooke's full placement history this morning," he said.
"Six years, eleven placements.
Four ended with the child being flagged as a problem placement in the file."
"Including Mia."
"Mia's flag was entered two days ago.
After you came in this morning."
I looked at him.
"She filed it this morning?"
"Timestamped 8:47 a.m.
You were in this office at 9:15."
"She was covering herself."
"That's our read as well." He turned a page.
"Of the four children flagged, three have since aged out of the system.
The fourth is Dani — the thirteen-year-old.
Her current placement worker contacted us an hour ago.
Dani told her worker that she paid Vanessa $300 a month for six months before she was moved."
"Three hundred dollars.
She's thirteen."
"She was doing odd jobs in the neighborhood.
Lawn work, mostly.
She saved it up."
I pressed my hands flat on the table and looked at the wall for a moment.
"What about Tyler and Sophie?"
"Tyler's file is being reviewed.
His former placement worker is being interviewed separately — there are questions about whether the worker was aware of the arrangement." Carol paused.
"Sophie has been located.
She's nineteen now.
She's agreed to give a statement."
"So there are four children."
"At minimum."
"At minimum," I repeated.
Carol leaned forward.
"Mr.
Hale, I want to be transparent with you.
What we're looking at now is beyond a licensing review.
David's division has already been in contact with the district attorney's office."
I looked at her.
"Criminal charges."
"That's not my determination to make.
But the pattern, the documentation, the number of children involved — that conversation is happening."
From the side room, I could hear Mia's voice, low and even.
I couldn't make out the words.
Just the rhythm of it — steady, unhurried, careful.
"She's doing well in there," Pauline said from the doorway.
I nodded.
"She's been carrying this alone for a long time," Pauline added.
"It takes courage to say it out loud.
Especially to strangers."
"She's been saying things out loud to strangers her whole life," I said.
"Every new placement, every new school, every new set of rules.
She's had a lot of practice."
Pauline looked at me for a moment.
"She's lucky to have someone in her corner."
"I'm the one who didn't see it for ten months."
"You saw it when it mattered."
The side room door opened wider.
Mia came out first.
Her eyes were dry but her face had the look of someone who had just set something heavy down — not relief exactly, more like the absence of a weight she'd stopped noticing she was carrying.
She sat down next to me.
"Okay?" I asked.
"Yeah." She looked at the table.
"I told them about the Dorans too."
"I know.
That was the right call."
Carol and David exchanged a look.
"We'll be following up on that separately," David said.
"Mia, you were very clear and very helpful today.
I want you to know that."
Mia didn't say anything.
But she sat up slightly straighter.
Carol slid a single sheet of paper across the table to me.
"This is a summary of next steps.
The licensing review is formally open.
Vanessa Cooke's foster care license is suspended effective this morning, pending investigation.
You'll be contacted by our office and potentially by the DA's office as this progresses."
I read it.
Signed where she indicated.
"One more thing," Carol said.
"Mia's placement status.
Given everything, we want to make sure she's in a stable situation while this moves forward." She looked at me directly.
"Mr.
Hale, is it your intention to continue as Mia's foster parent?"
I looked at Mia.
She was looking at the table.
Trying not to look like she was waiting for the answer.
"Yes," I said.
"Absolutely yes."
Mia's jaw moved.
Just once.
She pressed her lips together and kept looking at the table.
Carol made a note.
"Good.
Then nothing changes on that front."
We stood to leave.
At the door, David Reyes stopped me.
"The text messages you received this morning," he said.
"The ones from the unknown number."
"I deleted them."
He handed me a card.
"If you receive any more contact from Vanessa Cooke or anyone acting on her behalf, document it and call me directly.
That kind of contact, at this stage, is something we take seriously."
I took the card.
Outside in the parking lot, Mia and I walked to the truck without talking.
She got in.
I got in.
I started the engine.
"She filed a problem placement report on me this morning," Mia said.
"Carol told me."
"I know."
"She did it to hurt my chances.
In case this didn't go the way it went."
"Yeah."
Mia looked out the window.
"It didn't work."
"No," I said.
"It didn't."
I pulled out of the lot.
We were two blocks away when Mia spoke again.
"David said the DA's office might get involved."
"Looks that way."
A pause.
"Good," she said quietly.
I didn't say anything.
May you like
I just drove.
But at the next red light, Mia reached over and turned on the radio — something she had never done before, not once in fourteen months — and I let her pick the station, and I didn't change it, and we drove the rest of the way home like that.
