Court

Drew is still complaining that he feels sick from the ferry ride, but I think the pallor of his face is more nerves for the upcoming hearing than anything. Rory is pale, too, still angry at being grounded.

Trace had asked me, early that morning when the three of them were sleeping. "What if I fucked everything up?" His voice is tortured, terrified.

"What were you supposed to do, Trace? Let it go? You can't let him get away with treating Drew and Adie like that."

"But what if he really wants to leave? I mean, I've fucked up so many times. I was never supposed to be raising a bunch of kids. Maybe it would be better for all of them."

"He said that because he was angry and because he's twelve, Trace. It would break him-- it would break any of them-- if they were separated from you. He'll figure it out, love. He'll understand."

But Rory is still not speaking to him, and though I haven't said anything to Trace, it's worrying me, that his hostility will show in court today, that he will make an impulsive decision on the stand that will lose this case for us.

"All rise for the Honorable Judge Vivien Anise."

We stand as one, Trace holding Adie so tightly she squirms in his arms.

I am numb, terrified, as the proceedings begin. The attorney on the opposite side presents his case, calls Sara.

The judge is an imposing woman, and under her wig is a mass of graying dark hair, piled neatly into a bun. Her eyes are fierce when she glances over at us, and she would remind me of Mauri if she didn't look so coldly at me as if I were responsible for all of this.

"Ms. O'Neill, you state that you have observed neglect on the part of Trace Estlin Cain, the older brother and guardian of the three children in question?"

"Yes," Sara says smugly, and I recognize the self-righteous gleam in her eye as she looks down from the stand on us. "Mr. Cain is rarely at home, often leaving his younger siblings alone after school, while he engages in brutal fist-fighting or various amorous flirtations with the young women of this island."

Trace's face is impassive, but I am so furious that it takes everything I have not to stand up and scream at her.

"Do you have personal knowledge of this, Ms. O'Neill?" Vivien Anise asks sharply. "Or is this simply your guess?"

"Oh, personal knowledge, ma'am," Sara says smoothly. "The entire island knows that Trace Cain spends his weekends at the Devon Hall, engaging in fistfights."

"So you mean an island activity, not rogue fighting like you implied earlier?"

Sara flushes. "Of course, ma'am. And he makes no provisions for childcare for his siblings during these weekends."

"And how do you know this?"

"Because I have visited their home at various times, and seen Trace and his current girlfriend, Karinne Lewis, arriving home late to find only the oldest child, Rory, left in charge of the other two."


"And how old is Rory?"

"I believe around 11 or 12, ma'am."

Rory, who will turn 13 next week, stiffens angrily, and Drew, who is 11, snickers into his hands. Trace elbows him to be quiet, his eyes focused on the front of the courtroom.

"Do you have anything else to add to this?"

"Yes, ma'am, I have personally observed Trace and his girlfriend leave the children alone for long periods of time while they take long walks alone on the island," Sara says coldly. "Furthermore, Rory is known at school for getting into fights and abandoning his younger siblings if he is in the mood, while the youngest, Adie, who is only four, could not even be allowed in Sunday school because she was too prone to fighting."

The injustice of this claim astounds me, and Adie looks up with eyes full of tears. "Tell her she's wrong, Trace," Adie pleads, her lower lip trembling.

Trace brushes a kiss across her forehead. "It'll be alright, little lady. We'll have our turn."

Sara takes her seat, and the judge turns towards us. "Mr. Trace Cain, please step forward to be sworn in."

Adie clings to him, but he gently detaches her and places her in my arms.

"You can do this, Trace Cain," I whisper as he leans down, my hand lingering close to his. "For our family."