Chapter 6: The Weight of Thirty-Eight
The DCFS visit lasted two hours and nineteen minutes.
Sandra Okafor was calm, thorough, and gave nothing away.
She sat on Dana's couch with a notepad and asked questions in the careful, neutral tone of someone who had learned to keep their face still no matter what they heard.
She asked about Lily's daily routine.
Her sleep.
Her appetite.
Her language development.
Whether she had a pediatrician.
Whether there had been any changes in her behavior in the past week.
"She's been quieter," I said.
"She startles more easily than she did before.
She doesn't like sudden loud sounds."
"Has she said anything about what happened?"
"She's two.
Her language is still developing." I paused.
"She pointed at her cheek yesterday morning and said 'ow.' That was all."
Sandra wrote something down.
"And the mark?"
I had photographed it every morning since the clinic.
I showed Sandra the progression — the first night, the second morning, now four days later, still visible at the edge of her cheekbone, fading but not gone.
Sandra looked at each photograph without speaking.
Then she asked to spend some time with Lily alone, in the living room, while I waited in the kitchen.
I stood at Dana's kitchen counter for twenty-two minutes and listened to the sound of Sandra's quiet voice and Lily's occasional responses and the soft thump of a board book being opened and closed.
When Sandra came back to the kitchen doorway, she said, "She's a lovely little girl."
"Yes," I said.
"She is."
"I'll be in touch within five business days with our assessment." She closed her notepad.
"Is there anything else you'd like me to know?"
"My attorney, Carol Vance, has a video recording of the incident.
A medical report.
And testimony from a family member who witnessed similar behavior toward another child in this family four years ago."
Sandra's pen paused over her bag.
"I'll coordinate directly with Ms.
Vance," she said.
After she left, Dana came and stood beside me at the window.
We watched Sandra's car pull out of the parking structure below.
"How do you feel?" Dana asked.
"Like I've been holding my breath for four days."
Dana put her arm around me.
I let her.
That afternoon, Carol called.
"Diane's attorney reached out," she said.
"They want to meet.
In person.
Diane will be present."
I sat up straighter.
"What do they want?"
"They're calling it a settlement conversation.
They want to discuss withdrawing the filing in exchange for a private agreement — no further legal action, no contact with media, Lily continues to have regular visits with Diane under supervised conditions."
The word *supervised* landed like a stone.
"They want Lily to keep seeing her," I said.
"That's what they're proposing."
"No."
"Emily—"
"No," I said again.
"Diane planned that party.
She set up the camera angle.
She str*ck my daughter and filed a custody claim the same night.
She coached Brooke to lie to her own attorney.
And now she wants supervised visits as a settlement." I stopped.
"That is not a settlement.
That is Diane deciding how much access she gets to keep."
A pause on Carol's end.
"I agree with you," Carol said.
"I wanted to hear you say it."
"What do we do?"
"We go to the meeting," Carol said.
"We let them make their offer on the record.
And then we show them what we have."
The meeting was set for Thursday at two p.m.
at Carol's office.
Wednesday night, Jason came back.
This time he buzzed up.
Dana answered the intercom and looked at me.
I nodded.
He came to the door looking like he hadn't slept.
His shirt was wrinkled.
He hadn't shaved.
Dana took Lily to the back bedroom and closed the door.
Jason stood in the entryway.
He didn't come further in.
"I need to know what you're planning to do," he said.
"You'll find out through your attorney," I said.
"Emily." His voice broke slightly.
"I know I failed you.
I know I failed Lily.
I'm not here to argue that."
"Then why are you here?"
He looked at his hands.
"My mother called me this afternoon.
She told me Brooke went to your lawyer's office."
"Yes."
"She's furious." He looked up.
"She told me if I don't get this under control, she's pulling my name from the business trust."
I looked at him for a long moment.
"And?" I said.
He blinked.
"That's why you're here," I said.
"Not because you failed Lily.
Because your mother threatened your inheritance."
"That's not—" He stopped.
He couldn't finish it.
"Go home, Jason."
"Emily—"
"Go home." My voice was steady.
"And tell your attorney to prepare for Thursday."
He stood there for another moment.
Then he turned and walked back to the elevator.
I closed the door.
From the back bedroom, I heard Lily laugh at something Dana had done.
May you like
A bright, sudden sound, completely unguarded.
I leaned against the door and let it fill the room.
