Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 78631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
But I need to be strong. Strong for this little girl, my niece. If I had any doubts, just looking at her confirms it.
“So this is Eddie?”
The pit bull tilts his head, looks at me, a slight growl coming from his throat.
“It’s okay, Eddie.”
Eddie stands between me and Bridget. I have to say, I respect the dog.
“Are you going to take me to my mother?”
“I’m going to try. But I don’t know where she is yet.”
Her lips quiver slightly. “Dad said he had to give her away.”
“He gave her away?”
“Somebody saw me. They wanted to take me, but Dad wouldn’t let them. He gave them Mom instead.”
Not exactly what Mack told me, but her words ring true. She says them in a voice devoid of emotion. As if it’s something that happens every day.
“I’m looking for your mother,” I say. “But do you know who I am, Bridget?”
“Your name is Dragon.” She purses her lips. “That’s an unusual name.”
I nod.
“My mother had a brother named Dragon. Are you that Dragon? The one I talked to on the phone?”
“Yes. I am.”
She looks me up and down. “Your hair is so long.”
“I like it that way. I’m a drummer in a rock band.”
She nods. “My mom told me about your drum. She didn’t remember much. She remembered that you made her happy. That you were always playing a drum. And that what you like best in the world were oatmeal cookies and making Griffin happy.”
Mrs. Ortiz’s oatmeal cookies. Yes. Griffin would remember those.
And the Osbornes.
My best friend Ricky.
And his big brother, Malcolm, who left home at eighteen. Who we never saw again. A couple of months later, Griffin was attacked in her bedroom.
Malcolm. He knew our house as well as anyone. He always made a fuss over Griffin. Told her what a beautiful girl she was. Called her Angel.
I didn’t think anything of it.
Stop it, Dragon. I hear the words in Diana’s voice. You were a child. You couldn’t have known. There was nothing you could’ve done.
And for the first time, I actually believe the words. I thought I believed them before. In therapy. When I talked to Jesse.
But I never did. That’s why I couldn’t lay off the sauce.
I believe them now.
There isn’t anything I could have done. I was a kid.
It feels like a weight off my chest, as if I’m breathing freely for the first time since I was eight years old.
“So where’s my mom?” Bridget asks again.
“I’m not sure. But Bridget…”
“What?”
“I have to call the police. You’ve been abandoned.”
She holds her hands out in front of her. “Please, no. I don’t want to go with strangers.”
“I may be your uncle, but you don’t know me.”
“Please…” She wipes a tear from her cheek. “Please don’t call them.”
My heart breaks. This girl is thirteen, and I heard just as many horror stories from the group homes for girls. I can’t put this little girl through that.
Unfortunately, though, I don’t have a choice.
I can get a DNA test, show the courts that I’m this little girl’s uncle. Petition for custody.
Yeah, as if the state will give custody to a recovering addict who was recently arrested for solicitation…
And the hooker looked like Griffin. Like the child in front of me.
Not great optics.
With every bone in my body, I want to take her with me. Tell her that I will keep her safe forever. But we’d be on the run.
And more importantly?
She’s not mine to take.
She’s a minor. I have no right to this child.
God, I don’t want to call the police. I don’t want to call child services. I don’t want Bridget in their custody.
But if I take her now, I may never be able to care for her in the long term. I have to do what’s right. I have to follow the law.
“Bridget,” I say, “I’m sorry, but I have to call the police.”
She inhales sharply. “But my father told me you’d take care of me.”
“I wish I could. But if I take you without the legal right to do so, I could end up in prison. I can’t help you from there.”
“But…”
“The one person who has a right to you is your mother. I’ll find her, Bridget. I’ll find her, and then you and she can be together again.”
She grabs my arm. “Please…”
Oh God. Her voice. She even sounds like Griffin. Or does she? Do I even remember what my sister’s voice sounds like? She was five years old. She still had a baby voice. This girl is thirteen. She’s on the verge of womanhood.
If only…
But I can’t.
Besides, Diana and I can’t go after Griffin with a thirteen-year-old girl in tow. We wouldn’t be able to take care of her. We wouldn’t be able to guarantee her safety.
This is so fucked up.
“Bridget, did your mother ever tell you how she and your father came to be together?”