Page 62 of The Sister's Curse
“Does he hit you?”
“Sometimes. When I get mouthy.” She picked at a piece of dirt on the countertop. “It’s not hard, not enough to leave a bruise. People would notice.”
“Does he make you uncomfortable? Touch you in a sexual way?” I hated to ask, but I had to.
She looked away, and that told me what I needed to know. Rage thudded through my temples.
“I’m so sorry, Leah.”
She stared at her hands, a tear dripping down her nose. “Nobody cares. I mean, nobody but the other girls.”
“Do the girls at school know?”
“My homeschool pod?” She laughed and rolled her eyes. “We don’t do anything but study the Bible. Dad says that women don’t need to be educated. Our highest good is to be a fertile vessel for more children, to bring God’s love to the world.” She spat the words with venom.
“My dad…My dad did some really awful things, too,” I said slowly. “But not to me.”
She looked at me. “Then you know. You know the lies.”
I nodded. “And I know how much I loved him. And how much I hate him.”
“Is your dad in prison?”
“My dad went to prison. He’s dead now,” I said.
“So everyone’s safe.”
“Yeah. It’s a relief, honestly. I never confronted him. I’m not as strong as you are, Leah.” I had never stood up to my father to the extent that Leah had in her living room, accusing him of killing her mother.
Leah shook her head and whispered: “I’m scared of him.”
“I know. Iknow.”
I exhaled. I certainly wasn’t giving her back to her father.
I leaned forward and put my elbows on my knees. “Leah, if I could take you away, to a safe place, would you go? And would you stay there, and not run away?”
Leah blinked. “What do you mean?”
“I have to contact Social Services. I have a colleague there who will take good care of you.”
“Will my dad know where I am?”
“No. An investigation will need to occur, to determine if you should go back to him.”
Her shoulders slumped. “They would give me back to my dad. I don’t have any marks. And the basement is creepy, but I don’t think—”
“That’s not for you to decide. Or me to decide,” I said. “I can’t say for certain what would happen from here on out. But I’d like to put you in the custody of Child Protective Services. If you’ll let me.”
She met my gaze. “As long as they don’t have a basement.”
I went outside, called CPS, and explained the situation.
My colleague Kara listened. “I’m going to deem this an emergency placement. There’s a nice couple who fosters kids for us who would take her. Let me give you the address.”
She read off the address, and I jotted it down. “Thanks, Kara.”
Kara sighed. “I’m willing to fight for her. But you have to know that you’re gonna bring a shitstorm down on your head for interfering with that church.”
