A few days later, Ms. Hart from child services sat across from me at our kitchen table with a folder thick enough to ruin my life.
Tommy was asleep on the couch. Lila and Phoebe stood in the hallway, pretending not to listen.
“These children will need temporary placement,” Ms. Hart said.
“Together?” I asked.
She looked down at the folder. That was answer enough.
“No.”
Lila made a small sound from the hallway.
Tommy was asleep on the couch.
I kept my eyes on Ms. Hart. “They just lost Mom and Dad.”
“I know, Rowan,” she said gently.
“No. If you did, you wouldn’t be telling me to split them up like mismatched socks.”
Her face softened. “Rowan, you’re eighteen.”
“I know how old I am.”
“You have no degree and no steady income. According to the paperwork, the mortgage is behind.”
“I can work. I can learn. Just don’t split them up.”
“They just lost Mom and Dad.”
“It isn’t that simple.”
I looked at Tommy, curled under his blanket, with one hand still holding Mom’s old keychain. “Neither is telling a six-year-old he lost his parents and his family in the same week.”
Ms. Hart closed the folder halfway. “I hear you. Don’t get me wrong. But love isn’t always enough.”
“Then teach me what else I need. Help me.”
“I can only do so much, Rowan. But remember, a court date will be set, whether we like it or not.”
“It isn’t that simple.”
Court was worse.
Aunt Denise arrived in pearls and a cream coat, with Uncle Warren carrying a folder like they had already won.
“I love those children,” Aunt Denise told the judge, dabbing under one dry eye. “But Rowan is a child himself. I can take the youngest two until things settle. I’m willing and able.”
Phoebe grabbed Lila’s sleeve.
“The youngest two? Do you even know their names?” I asked. “Why are you talking about them like they’re luggage?”
“I love those children.”
Aunt Denise turned to me. “Sweetheart, don’t be selfish. You can’t save everyone.”
I faced the judge. “I’m not trying to save everyone. I’m trying to keep my family together.”
The judge leaned forward. “Son, do you understand what you’re asking for?”
“Not fully, Your Honor,” I said. “But I have to do it. For them and for my parents.”
The courtroom went still.
I swallowed. “I know Tommy’s inhaler schedule. I know Benji hides food when he’s scared. I know Sybil gets mean when she’s hungry. I know Ethan and Adam need space. I know Lila and Phoebe sleep with the hallway light on.”
“I’m trying to keep my family together.”
Lila broke first. “I don’t want Aunt Denise. I want Rowan.”
Phoebe nodded hard. “Me too.”
Then Tommy burst into tears, and Benji followed, and even Adam covered his face.
Two weeks later, temporary guardianship became mine.
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