Chapter 23: Hattie's Say

Crispin's POV

I had sat through a thousand bad hours in an emergency room.

None of them was as long as the next three minutes.

Hattie walked to the front of the courtroom in her purple tights, holding her unicorn bag.

The magistrate came down from her chair and sat in the empty one by the clerk's table.

That way she was no higher than a child.

"Hello," she said. "What's your name?"

"Hattie Swanson. I'm seven. I'm eight on Saturday."

"Happy early birthday."

"Thank you. It's a Halloween party. I'm going as a cat."

"I look forward to hearing about it. Hattie, do you know why you're here today?"

"Mom and Dad want to take away my weekends with Lacey."

She said it very evenly.

My throat closed.

"Do you want to tell me what you think about that?"

"Yes." Hattie looked at her shoes, and then up. "I think it's dumb."

A soft sound went through the benches.

"Why is it dumb?"

"Because Lacey makes pancakes shaped like Ohio. And she reads the voices. And she doesn't make me use the baby fork."

"I see."

"And Mom says Lacey is poisoning me, but I looked it up.

"Poisoning is when you put something bad in food. Lacey put syrup in it."

The old woman with the cane said, "Mm-hm," with great satisfaction.

Denise had both hands over her mouth.

"Hattie," the magistrate said gently. "Who do you want to live with?"

"Mom."

My heart dropped, and I saw Lacey's hands go still in her lap.

"On Mom's weeks," Hattie went on, "because she's my mom.

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