Page 64 of The Silence Between

“That's impossible,” I said immediately. “I would know if...”

But even as I said it, doubt crept in. Diego had been weirdly quiet lately, answering questions about his day with caveman grunts. And Sophie had been dropping hints about wanting fancy art supplies our budget couldn't stretch to cover, but that might have mysteriously appeared if someone was trying to buy her affection.

“The contact happened without you knowing?” Corinne asked, her face neutral but her pen hovering over the file like a vulture waiting for something to die.

“If it happened at all,” I clarified, recovering quickly. “My father was in the hospital recently for another overdose. He's in no shape to be hanging around schools.”

“That's exactly the concern.” Corinne's voice stayed professional, but her eyes showed actual worry. “Miguel checking himself out against medical advice, combined with his continued drug use and homeless situation, goes against all the visitation rules set up in your custody agreement.”

“I know the rules. I've followed them for ten years.”

“I know you have, Leo. I'm not saying otherwise.” She put down her pen. “But I need to stress the custody implications if these secret meetings continue, especially with his recent relapse. As their guardian, you need to keep those boundaries in place.”

“I understand.” The words came automatically while inside I was having a five-alarm panic attack. Another threat to my family, this one from a direction I wasn't expecting. “I'll talk to Diego and Sophie right away.”

“One more thing.” Corinne checked her calendar. “We have your custody review scheduled for next month, right when Mari turns twenty-one. Standard procedure to evaluate custody arrangements when family situations change.”

This routine update hit me like a sucker punch. A custody review right when Mari was turning twenty-one. Fantastic timing, universe. Really outdoing yourself.

“Is that really necessary?”

“It's standard procedure,” Corinne repeated, though her tone suggested she knew it was bureaucratic bullshit. “Just a formal check-in to make sure things are still stable for Diego and Sophie.”

I nodded, keeping my face blank while my brain calculated threat levels. The timing couldn't be worse. Miguel showing up again, Mari hitting official adulthood, me changing jobs, all happening exactly when the system decided to put us under the microscope.

As I left the building and stepped into the gray afternoon light, I felt like the weight of the world was crushing down on me. The custody arrangement that had kept my siblings together for ten years suddenly seemed as fragile as a house of cards in a tornado.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. Unknown number. I almost ignored it, not in the mood to deal with another bill collector, but something made me answer.

“Hello?” I balanced the training binder on my knee as I fumbled with the phone.

“Leo? It's Ethan.”

I almost dropped the binder. “Ethan? How did you get my number?”

“Eleanor gave it to me,” he said, sounding a little hesitant. “Hope that's okay. She mentioned you'd be working on some bookstore projects, and I wanted to touch base about potential school collaborations.”

Of course she did. Eleanor and her “community partnerships” moving at light speed.

“Right now's not great,” I said, glancing back at the social services building looming behind me.

“Everything okay? You sound stressed.”

I almost laughed. Stressed didn't begin to cover it. “Just leaving a meeting. Family stuff.”

“Anything I can help with?” The genuine concern in his voice caught me off guard.

“Not unless you know how to make the foster care system less of a nightmare,” I said before I could stop myself.

A pause. “Not my area of expertise, unfortunately. But if you need someone to talk to about it...”

“I'm good,” I said quickly, regretting the moment of vulnerability. “But thanks.”

“Okay.” He didn't push, which I appreciated. “Actually, I was wondering if you might come by my classroom sometime today? I've been working on this poetry unit with the juniors that I think would tie in perfectly with what Eleanor was mentioning about the bookstore collaboration.”

“Your classroom?” I repeated, like I'd never heard of the concept before.

“Yeah, maybe during fifth period? The students are preparing presentations on contemporary poets, and I thought it might be good for them to hear about how a real bookstore decides which poetry collections to stock.” He paused. “Plus, I could use another adult perspective on their work. Sometimes I think they take me less seriously since I'm the new teacher.”

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