Queen Never Cry novel · Chapter 8 of 32

Chapter 8: Sunday

On Tuesday morning Garret called me from his truck before I had finished my coffee.

"Lurie's records office just rang my investigator," he said.

"Monday night, ten minutes after the hearing, Corrigan Group Legal asked them to purge a file."

"Which file?"

"The emergency room log for the night of your daughter's croup."

My cup stopped halfway to my mouth.

"They purged it?"

"A compliance officer froze it. He remembered your name from the Tribune."

Garret breathed out.

"It's still there, Pippa. They won't release it without a subpoena, but it exists."

I set the cup down.

My hand was steady, and my heart was running.

My old lawyer had spent Monday night trying to erase the one thing that could free me.

Which meant that it could.

On Sunday afternoon I stood outside a room on Halsted Street with my palms sweating through a borrowed blouse.

The Family Services center had beige walls and a bin of broken crayons.

A woman with a clipboard met me at the door.

"I'm the supervisor," she said. "I'll sit in the corner and I won't interfere unless there's a safety issue."

"Thank you."

"She's been excited all week, Ms. Corrigan. She kept telling the staff her mother was a queen."

I looked at the floor.

Then the door at the end of the hall opened and Posy stood in it, in a yellow coat, with a nanny behind her.

The gold key hung outside her sweater.

She looked at me for exactly one breath.

Then she ran, and I got down on both knees and caught her.

We did not talk for a long time.

She just breathed against my neck, and I held the back of her head the way I used to when she had nightmares.

At last Posy pulled back and wiped her nose on her sleeve.

"You got thin," she said.

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