“I’m not going to stand here and pretend I’m some perfect guardian. I’m nineteen. I work at a repair shop. Half the time I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Daniel watched me carefully.
“But Denise doesn’t want Vicky.”
I looked toward the empty chair across the courtroom.
“She wants what comes with her.”
Then I looked back at the judge.
“I want my sister.”
Vicky reached for my hand.
I held it.
The judge remained silent for a long time.
Finally she removed her glasses.
“Until a full investigation can be completed, I am granting temporary guardianship of Victoria Mitchell to Michael Mitchell, subject to weekly welfare visits and financial oversight by a court-appointed trustee.”
For a second, I didn’t understand the words.
Then Vicky squeezed my hand.
“Michael.”
I looked at Daniel.
He smiled.
“We won.”
But it didn’t feel like winning.
Winning was supposed to feel good.
This felt like surviving.
