Page 2 of Aussie
Ava’s lips curved into a small smile, her heart swelling with gratitude.
She shook herself from the memories, reminding herself that today wasn’t about the past. It was about the kids who needed someone to fight for them. Someone like Evelyn. Someone like her.
Stepping into the bathroom, she turned on the shower, letting the steam fill the small space. The hot water would be her reset, washing away the lingering weight of the nightmare and preparing her for the day ahead.
As she stepped into the shower and under the hot water, she reminded herself once again that she was no longer that scared girl in the basement. She was Ava Morgan, a strong, determined woman and a voice for those who hadn’t found their own yet.
CHAPTER TWO
Ava sat in one of the stiff leather chairs in Judge Holten’s chambers. Her fingers twisted the thin silver bracelet she wore around her wrist. She tried to appear calm for Christian’s sake, but her stomach churned with unease.
The walls in the office were lined with shelves of law books and framed degrees, but there was something cozy about the place, with a few potted plants and photos of her grandkids breaking up the formal austerity.
Beside her, Christian, a fifteen-year-old boy, stared at his hands, fidgeting with the frayed cuff of his sweater. Ava could see the nerves in his tight posture, though he tried to mask it with indifference. His dark brown eyes would periodically shift toward the door the judge had disappeared through just minutes ago. He reminded her so much of herself at that age—quiet, observant, trying not to get too attached to anything or anyone. It was a survival tactic. It broke Ava’s heart.
Ava hated this part, the waiting, the uncertainty. It was a cruel limbo for a boy who had already been through too much. Christian didn’t need to say it out loud. She knew he was bracing himself for more disappointment. His track record with foster parents was abysmal. Time and again, he’d been let down by people who had no business fostering in the first place. She’d seen the damage it had done to him, how each rejection chipped away at his ability to trust. And now, here they were, waiting to hear if his latest set of foster parents were going to give up on him, too.
She shifted in her chair, glancing at Christian. “You holding up okay?” she asked softly.
He shrugged but didn’t look at her. “It’s not like this is the first time,” he muttered. She could hear the sadness in his voice.
“I know,” Ava replied, her voice stead. “But it doesn’t make it right.”
When he didn’t say anything, Ava decided not to push. They sat in silence.
The door to the judge’s office remained closed, and the low hum of voices behind it was barely audible. Ava’s stomach continued to churn. She didn’t have a good feeling about this. The last time she’d seen Christian’s foster parents, they’d been all smiles and reassurances, but she did catch the edge of disdain in their tone when they talked about him. They had made small, subtle comments about him—he was a bit difficult and a little defiant.
It had made her furious. Christian was a bright, resourceful kid who’d been let down by every adult who was supposed to protect him. He didn’t need perfect parents. He just needed someone who’d stuck around long enough to earn his trust. He needed someone like Evelyn.
“Do you think they’re gonna keep me?” Christian asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
He was trying to sound indifferent, but Ava could hear the tiny thread of hope buried underneath. “I don’t know, Christian,” she answered honestly. “But whatever happens, we’ll figure it out together. You’re not alone in this.”
Before either one could say another word, the door opened, and Judge Holten stepped in carrying a file in her hands. Her expression was carefully guarded, but Ava had spent enough time in her courtroom and outside the courtroom to recognize the slight crease in her forehead that meant bad news.
Judge Holten, a woman in her mid-fifties with sharp eyes softened only by her familiarity with Ava, sat behind her desk.
Being that Christian’s foster parents hadn’t joined them, told Ava everything that needed to be said.
Even though she didn’t show it outright, Ava could tell that Judge Holten appeared clearly irritated by the situation as well.
Ava sat up straighter, bracing herself for the news.
Christian’s shoulders tensed, and he shot Ava a quick glance before fixing his eyes on the judge. She’d never seen him look so young and vulnerable as he did at that moment.
Judge Holten looked at Christian and then at Ava. “I just spoke with the Hodges,” she began, her voice calm but serious. “And I think we need to have a frank discussion about what happens next.”
Ava noticed how Christian’s shoulders slumped in defeat, and she reached over and gave his hand a quick squeeze. He didn’t pull away, and that gave her the smallest glimmer of hope. Whatever came next, she would fight for him. He deserved that much and so much more.
“Christian, can you tell me a little about how things have been at the Hodges’ house?”
Christian shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “It’s been okay, I guess,” he mumbled. Ava shot him an encouraging look, and he continued, “They just don’t really get me. I like different stuff than the other kids. I’m not like them. I keep to myself, but they say I’m causing problems.”
The judge nodded, her gaze softening as she listened. “What kind of problems?”
“I honestly don’t know. I try not to bother them. They want me to be more like the other kids in the house. But I’m not. I’m me, and I have different interests.”
Ava clenched her jaw. She knew this story too well. Christian’s foster parents didn’t understand him, and instead of working through it, they labeled him a problem. The fact thatthey couldn’t even be bothered to sit in on this conversation proved how little they cared.
