Every adult in the room stopped.
The hearing officer looked uncertain.
“Victoria—”
“I don’t want a new family.”
Her voice trembled.
I reached for her.
She stepped forward anyway.
“I have a family.”
She pointed at me.
“That’s my family.”
My throat closed.
Then she looked at the social worker.
“When I have bad dreams, Michael stays awake with me.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“When I couldn’t eat, he learned how Mom made eggs because I only liked hers.”
A few people looked down.
“He works all the time because he says I need my shoes and school stuff more than he needs sleep.”
My eyes burned.
“Vicky.”
She shook her head.
“I’m not done.”
That was so much like Mom I almost laughed.
Then she said something none of us expected.
“And Uncle Howard was at our house the night Mommy died.”
The room went absolutely still.
I stared at her.
