Chapter 26 Chapter 26
TWENTY-SIX~
Two months later, just when I was starting to believe we might actually have a normal life, I got a call from an unknown number.
I almost didn't answer. But something made me pick up.
"Hello?"
"Is this Anita Harris?" a woman's voice asked.
"Yes. Who is this?"
"My name is Jennifer Morrison. I'm a social worker in Oregon. I'm calling about a child who was recently placed in foster care. His mother listed you as an emergency contact."
My mind raced. I didn't know anyone in Oregon. "I think you have the wrong person."
"You're Anita Blake Harris, married to Declan Harris, living in New York?" Jennifer asked.
"Yes, but—"
"Then I have the right person," Jennifer said. "The child's mother is Rebecca Turner. She says you knew her brother Jake."
My heart stopped. "Jake Turner?"
"Yes. Rebecca is Jake's half-sister. She's been arrested on drug charges, and her son needs a temporary placement. Jake gave her your information before he left the country, said if anything ever happened to her, you might be willing to help."
"Wait, slow down," I said. "Jake has a sister? And she has a son? And Jake thought I would take care of him?"
"I know it's a lot to process," Jennifer said sympathetically. "Rebecca's son is three years old. His name is Liam. He's a sweet kid, but he's been through a lot. If you can't take him, we'll find another foster home, but Rebecca was insistent that you were the only person she trusted."
"I need to talk to my husband," I said. "Can I call you back?"
She gave me her number and hung up.
I sat there, staring at my phone, trying to process what just happened.
Jake had a half-sister. That sister had a son. And now that son needed a home.
When Declan came home, I told him everything.
"Jake's sister?" he repeated. "I didn't even know he had a sister."
"Half-sister, apparently," I said. "And Declan, she's in jail. This little boy has no one."
"We have two babies of our own," Declan pointed out. "Taking on a three-year-old is a huge commitment."
"I know," I said. "But I can't stop thinking about him. A three-year-old boy whose mother is in jail, whose uncle left the country, with no family to take care of him."
"You want to do this," Declan said. It wasn't a question.
"I don't know," I admitted. "Maybe? Is that crazy? After everything we've been through, am I insane to consider taking in another child?"
Declan was quiet for a long moment. "Tell me about Jake's family. About his mother, his background."
"Patricia was abusive," I said. "Jake grew up in a terrible environment. That's part of why he turned out the way he did—broken, damaged, struggling to find himself."
"And you don't want that for this boy," Declan said. "You don't want him growing up in the system, passed from foster home to foster home, never feeling wanted."
"Exactly," I said softly.
"Then we should at least meet him," Declan decided. "Before we make any commitments, let's fly to Oregon and see if we're actually equipped to help."
Three days later, we left the twins with my parents and flew to Portland.
Jennifer Morrison met us at the foster care office. She was younger than I expected, with tired eyes that suggested she'd seen too much sadness.
"Thank you for coming," she said. "I know this is unusual."
"Where's Liam?" I asked.
"He's with his current foster family. I wanted to talk to you first, make sure you understand the situation," Jennifer said. She pulled out a file. "Rebecca has a long history of drug abuse. This isn't her first arrest. Liam has been in and out of foster care three times in his short life."
"Three times?" I repeated, my heart breaking.
"Rebecca tries to get clean, gets Liam back, then relapses," Jennifer explained. "It's a cycle we see too often. This time, though, she violated parole. She's looking at serious jail time."
"What about Liam's father?" Declan asked.
"Unknown. Rebecca won't say who he is," Jennifer said. "And honestly, given her lifestyle, she might not know for certain."
"How is Liam handling all this?" I asked.
"He's remarkably resilient," Jennifer said. "But he has attachment issues, which is understandable. He's learned that people leave. That homes are temporary. He doesn't trust easily."
"Can we meet him?" I asked.
"Of course."
We drove to the foster home where Liam was staying. It was a nice enough house in a quiet neighborhood, but it was clear the family had multiple foster children. It felt more like a business than a home.
Liam was playing in the backyard when we arrived. He was small for three, with dark hair and big brown eyes. He looked so much like Jake it took my breath away.
"Liam," Jennifer called. "Come here for a minute."
The boy came over cautiously, eyeing us with suspicion.
"Liam, these are some friends of your Uncle Jake," Jennifer said gently. "They came to visit you."
"Uncle Jake is gone," Liam said matter-of-factly. "Mama said he went far away."
"That's right," I said, kneeling down to his level. "But before he left, he asked me to check on you. Make sure you're okay."
"I'm okay," Liam said. But his eyes said otherwise.
We spent an hour with him. Played with his trucks, read him a story, watched him interact with the other foster kids. He was polite but distant, like he'd learned not to get too attached to anyone.
As we were leaving, Liam surprised us by asking, "Are you coming back?"
"Do you want us to?" I asked.
He shrugged, trying to look like he didn't care. But I saw the hope in his eyes.
In the car back to the hotel, Declan and I didn't speak for a long time.
Finally, he said, "We can't save every damaged child in the world."
"I know," I said.
"The twins are barely a year old. Adding a three-year-old with trauma and attachment issues would be incredibly challenging."
"I know that too," I said.
"But you want to do it anyway," Declan finished.
"Don't you feel it?" I asked. "That connection? He's Jake's nephew. Jake, who despite everything, tried to warn us about Marcus. Who helped us in the end. Don't we owe him something?"
"We don't owe Jake anything," Declan said firmly. "He put you through hell."
"But he was trying to change," I argued. "He was trying to be better. And this little boy is paying for all the mistakes the adults in his life made. Just like Jake paid for Patricia's mistakes."
Declan sighed. "You've already made up your mind, haven't you?"
"No," I said honestly. "I want to know what you think. Really think."
Declan was quiet for a long moment. "I think Maya and Nathan are going to need a sibling someday. I think Liam deserves a real family. And I think if anyone can handle the chaos of raising three kids under three, it's us."
"Is that a yes?" I asked.
"It's a 'let's try and see if this works,'" Declan said. "We'll start with temporary foster placement. See how Liam adjusts to our family, how the twins react to him. If it works, we can talk about adoption."
I kissed him. "Have I told you lately that you're amazing?"
"Not today," he said with a small smile.
The legal process took six weeks. Background checks, home studies, interviews. But finally, we were approved as temporary foster parents for Liam.
The day we picked him up, he had all his belongings in one small backpack.
"This is everything?" I asked Jennifer.
"He doesn't have much," she said sadly. "Rebecca didn't have much to give him."
Liam was quiet on the plane ride home. He stared out the window, not saying much.
"Are you scared?" I asked him gently.
"No," he said. But his little hands were clenched tight.
"It's okay to be scared," I told him. "This is all new. But Declan and I are going to take care of you. We have two babies—Maya and Nathan—and they're excited to meet you."
"Babies are loud," Liam said.
I laughed. "Yes, they are. But they're also fun. And sweet. And I think you're going to like being a big brother."
When we got home, my mother had the twins ready to meet their new foster brother.
Maya toddled over to Liam immediately, babbling and trying to grab his hand. Nathan was more cautious, watching from a distance.
"Hi," Liam said to Maya, his voice soft.
Maya smiled at him, and something in Liam's expression softened.
"She likes you," I told him.
"I like her too," Liam said.
Over the next few weeks, we learned Liam's rhythms. He had nightmares almost every night—bad dreams about his mother leaving, about being alone. He hoarded food in his room, scared he wouldn't get fed. He flinched at loud noises and sudden movements.
But slowly, gradually, he started to trust us.
He started calling me and Declan by our first names instead of "miss" and "mister." He started playing more freely with the twins. He even laughed sometimes.
"He's doing so well," Dr. Martinez said during a family session. "Children are remarkably resilient when given a safe, loving environment."
"Do you think he'll be okay?" I asked. "Long-term?"
"With continued therapy and support? Yes, I think he will," Dr. Martinez said. "The early trauma will always be part of his story, but it doesn't have to define him."
Three months after Liam came to live with us, we got a call from Jennifer.
"Rebecca's trial is over," she said. "She's been sentenced to five years. She signed over her parental rights. If you want to adopt Liam, the way is clear."
I looked at Declan, who was playing on the floor with all three kids. Liam was showing Nathan how to stack blocks, while Maya tried to knock them down. They were laughing, all of them, looking like a real family.
"Yes," I said. "We want to adopt him."
The adoption process took another six months. More paperwork, more interviews, more waiting.
But finally, on a sunny October day, we stood in a courtroom with Liam—now four years old—and officially became his parents.
"Do you understand what this means?" the judge asked Liam kindly. "Anita and Declan are going to be your forever family. Your forever mom and dad."
"Forever?" Liam asked, looking at us with wide eyes.
"Forever," I promised, tears streaming down my face.
Liam smiled—really smiled—for the first time since we'd met him.
"Okay," he said. "I like that."
As we left the courthouse, now officially a family of five, I thought about how far we'd come.
From that first night with Declan to now, we'd survived so much. Attacks, kidnappings, betrayals, threats. We'd lost people we trusted and gained people we never expected.
But through it all, we'd built something beautiful. A family. Imperfect, chaotic, but full of love.
"What are you thinking about?" Declan asked as we walked to the car.
"Everything," I said. "How none of this went the way I planned, but somehow it's better than anything I could have imagined."
"Even with all the trauma?" he asked.
"Even with that," I said. "Because it led us here. To this moment, with these three amazing kids."
Liam was holding Nathan's hand, helping him walk. Maya was in Declan's arms, babbling happily.
This was my life now.
And I wouldn't change a single thing.
Well, almost nothing.
As we reached the car, my phone buzzed with a message from an unknown number.
Congratulations on the
adoption. Beautiful family. Enjoy it while it lasts. Nothing is forever. - V
My blood ran cold.
Victoria Laurence was supposed to be in prison for the next twenty-eight years.
But apparently, she'd found a way to reach us anyway.