She was treated for depression. Three years ago, in another state. She’s unstable.
We’re worried about the baby.” Marina felt the floor tilt under her. She stared at the paper in the caseworker’s hand and couldn’t catch her breath.
It was her record, her history, her private pain—the secret she had never told anyone. “How did you get this?” the CPS worker asked, and there was a new note in her voice now—wariness. “I know people, sweetheart,” Eleanor said with a smile, looking straight at Marina.
It was the smile of a cat with a cornered mouse. “I’m a mother. I had to find out who my son brought into this house.”
The caseworker looked at the document for a long moment. Then at Eleanor. Then back at the document.
“Medical records are protected by law,” she said slowly. “Obtaining them without the patient’s consent is a criminal offense. Do you understand that?”
The smile on Eleanor’s face flickered, but it didn’t disappear. “I was protecting my grandson. Any judge would understand that.”
“That’s not for you to decide,” the caseworker replied. She placed the record into her folder. “Given the circumstances, I’m ordering psychological evaluations for all adult members of the household.
You’ll be notified of the date.” When the door closed behind her, Eleanor turned to Marina. There was no fear in her eyes, only cold fury.
“You think you won? You think your little recordings matter?” She stepped closer, and Marina took a step back.
“The evaluation will be done by someone I know. It’s already handled. You lost the day you married into this family.”
Kyle said nothing. He stood against the wall staring at the floor, as if none of this had anything to do with him. On the day of the evaluation, Marina rode there in the back seat of a rideshare, holding Mikey close.
Eleanor sat beside her talking on the phone. She didn’t lower her voice. She didn’t care who heard. “It’s all taken care of, don’t worry,” she said, and there was laughter in her voice.
“You know Nina. We’ve known each other forever. She’ll handle it.”
Marina looked out the window at the gray streets and understood. Against the system—and against Eleanor’s connections—she might not stand a chance. She had gathered evidence.
She had prepared. She had done everything right, and still it might not be enough. Eleanor had been playing this game her whole life. Marina was only just learning.
Mikey stirred in her arms and opened his eyes. He looked at his mother—serious, intent, as if he understood more than he should.
Then he gave her a gummy smile and reached a hand toward her face. Marina caught his little palm and pressed it to her lips. Whatever happened in that office, she would not give up.
She would fight to the end. For him. Only for him….
