Chapter 18: The Bow

The caseworker was waiting outside the ward doors with a folder and a nurse manager on each side.

Behind them, in a black coat, stood Ansley's mother.

I had not seen her since the night of the dinner.

"Ms. Haskell," the caseworker said. "I'm sorry to meet you like this. A report came in this morning about your son's care."

"From whom?"

"I can't say."

"I can," said Ansley's mother. "A friend of this family asked me to come. She is worried about the boy."

"You have never met the boy," I said.

"I know enough about his mother."

Vaughn stepped up beside me.

"You can say what you want about me, ma'am. Not in front of him."

"Sam is asleep," the caseworker said. "I'll read the concerns, and you can answer them one at a time."

She opened the folder.

"One. The child's father was not told of his existence for five years."

"I wrote him a letter in the first month of my pregnancy," I said. "It came back refused. I have it."

"Someone else stamped that letter," Vaughn said. "I have the envelope, and the person who did it admitted it to my face this morning."

Ansley's mother's head turned.

"Two," the caseworker said. "The mother noticed bruising on the child's shins for several weeks and did not seek care."

My throat closed.

It was true.

A whole room of nurses was listening, and my aunt stood white-faced by the wall.

"Yes," I said. "I saw them. I told myself he was a boy who fell off things."

"I waited three weeks. I'm a nurse, and I should have known. The day his gums bled, I drove him to the emergency room myself."

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