Chapter 4: What Donna Reyes Knew
I called the number back before I'd even thought it through.
She picked up on the second ring.
Her voice was calm, professional, but there was something underneath it — a careful quality, like someone choosing words in a room where the walls were thin.
"Mr.
Hale.
Thank you for calling."
"Your text said there are things I should know."
"Yes." A brief pause.
"I want to be clear that I'm not supposed to be contacting you this way.
I'm doing it because I've been doing this job for nineteen years, and I've learned to tell the difference between a genuine welfare concern and something else."
I sat down.
"What kind of something else?"
"The request for Lily's review was submitted six weeks ago.
It cited concerns about emotional instability in the home, inconsistent parenting, and what the filing described as a quote — 'unhealthy attachment dynamic between the child and the male guardian.'"
My jaw tightened.
"Who filed it?"
"The request came from your wife.
But it was submitted through a family law attorney." She paused again.
"The same attorney who filed preliminary paperwork for a legal separation on her behalf eight days ago."
The room shifted slightly.
I put my hand flat on the desk.
"She filed for separation."
"Preliminary paperwork only, at this stage.
But Mr.
Hale — the timing of the welfare review and the separation filing are not a coincidence.
I've seen this pattern before.
If Lily's placement is disrupted before you complete the adoption, you lose standing.
You would have no legal right to contest where she goes."
I couldn't speak for a moment.
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Because Lily has been in seven placements in four years." Her voice didn't waver.
"And in my assessment, this one is the first stable home she's had.
I'm not willing to watch it get dismantled by a legal strategy without making sure someone on her side knows what's happening."
I thanked her.
She told me to move fast on the paperwork.
She told me the formal review was in twenty-two days.
She told me to get a family law attorney of my own before the week was out.
After I hung up, I sat in the dark for a long time.
Then I heard a sound from down the hall.
Small.
Careful.
The particular creak of the third floorboard from Lily's door — the one she always hit when she was trying not to be heard.
I opened my office door.
She was standing in the hallway in her socks, holding a glass of water with both hands.
We looked at each other.
"I heard you on the phone," she said.
"How much?"
"Enough." She looked down at the glass.
"Am I going to have to leave?"
"No."
"You don't know that."
"Lily." I crouched down so I was at her level.
"Look at me."
She did.
"I should have filed that paperwork a long time ago.
That's on me.
But I'm going to fix it.
And I need you to trust me for a little while longer."
She was quiet for a moment.
Then: "Does Tara want me to go?"
I didn't answer fast enough.
She nodded slowly, like the silence had confirmed something she'd already suspected.
She turned and walked back to her room.
The door closed.
May you like
The floorboard creaked once more, and then the house went still.
I went back to my desk, opened the folder, and started reading every page from the beginning.
