Chapter 6: What the Lawyer Said
Her name was Patricia Hale.
She met us at her office at nine o'clock that night, still in the jacket she'd worn to court that afternoon.
She listened without interrupting while I told her everything.
When I finished, she asked three questions.
"Do you have access to Robert's phone records, or only what you saw on the screen?"
"Only what I saw."
"Does Dana have a history of caring for children — any legal standing as a guardian, foster certification, anything like that?"
"Not that I know of."
"And the birth certificate Robert mentioned — did he show it to you, or did he only describe it?"
"He described it."
Patricia nodded slowly.
She made a note on the yellow pad in front of her.
"Here is what I want you to understand," she said.
"What Robert described — a fraudulent birth certificate, a false report of infant death, the transfer of a child without the mother's consent — these are not civil matters.
These are crjmes.
Serious ones."
"He said if I go to the police, Dana will run."
"He said that to frighten you into staying quiet." She set her pen down.
"Here is what he doesn't know.
We don't start with a general police report.
We start with an emergency motion for a writ of habeas corpus for the child.
We file tonight.
We request an emergency hearing for tomorrow morning.
Simultaneously, I contact a colleague in family court who will request an immediate welfare check on any infant registered to a Dana—" She looked at her notes.
"What is Dana's last name?"
"Calloway.
Dana Calloway."
"Registered to Dana Calloway in this state and the three surrounding states, cross-referenced against any birth registered in the last three weeks under the name Grace." She looked up.
"Robert thinks he has time.
He thinks you'll hesitate.
We are going to move before he realizes you didn't."
I looked at my mother.
She was watching Patricia with an expression I recognized.
It was the same expression she'd had when she'd said he is wrong.
Certainty.
"What do I need to do?" I said.
"Write down everything Willie told you, in his exact words, as close as you can remember.
Write down what you saw on Robert's phone.
Write down what Robert said to you, word for word.
Every threat.
Every detail about the arrangements." She slid a legal pad across the desk.
"Start now, while it's fresh.
I'll begin the filing."
I picked up the pen.
My mother leaned over.
"Do you want me to stay?"
"Yes," I said.
"Please."
She pulled her chair closer.
I started writing.
At eleven-forty that night, Patricia looked up from her computer.
"The motion is filed," she said.
"We have a hearing at eight-thirty tomorrow morning." She looked at me directly.
"Go home.
Sleep if you can.
Do not contact Robert.
Do not contact Dana.
If either of them contacts you, do not respond without calling me first."
"What if Dana runs tonight?"
"She won't know to run yet.
Robert doesn't know we've filed.
By the time he finds out, a judge will already have seen this." She closed her laptop.
"He made one critical mistake."
"What?"
"He told you about the arrangements." Patricia allowed herself a small, precise smile.
"He wanted you afraid.
Instead, he handed me his entire plan."
I drove home through empty streets with my mother in the passenger seat.
The house was dark except for the light I'd left on in the hallway.
Willie was still asleep.
I stood in his doorway for a moment.
The glass jar on his dresser caught the hallway light.
Coins and crumpled bills.
I went to bed.
I did not sleep.
May you like
But for the first time in three weeks, I was not only grieving.
I was moving.
