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My aunt only wanted to adopt my little sister to get her hands on the money – she had no idea that I had an ace up my sleeve.
The smoke-blackened envelope containing the university acceptance letter had lain unopened on our kitchen counter since the night I carried seven-year-old Vicky from our burning house. Then Aunt Denise arrived in a pink coat, introduced herself as Mom, and promised the hearing would be quick. Little did she know what she had overlooked in her own plan.
The woman from the youth welfare office opened my refrigerator and stared inside.
I stood behind her, my hands buried in the pockets of my work trousers, trying not to look as nervous as I felt.
Milk. Eggs. Yogurt. Apples. The leftover chicken I had prepared the night before. Three small containers with Vicky’s packed school lunches.
The woman squatted down to look at the bottom shelf.
« Someone reported that there was often no food in the house. »
I laughed once, but nothing about it was funny.
« This is the third complaint within five weeks. »
She straightened up.
» I know. «
Behind us, Vicky sat at the kitchen table and painted a horse purple.
The woman glanced at her.
« Vicky, does Michael ever forget to make breakfast? »
My fingers gripped the fabric in my pockets.
My little sister didn’t even look up.
» Sometimes. «
I closed my eyes.
Then she added: « His breakfast. »
The woman raised her eyebrows.
Vicky switched to a green colored pencil.
« He makes mine first. Then he says he’ll eat afterwards, but sometimes he has to go to work. »
I looked at the ground.
That felt somehow worse than the accusation.
Three months earlier, I had had to choose between two meal plans for student dormitories.
Now strangers have asked me if I have enough muesli to feed a seven-year-old child.
My parents died in a fire that destroyed almost all of our possessions.
I went back through the smoke and carried Vicky out.
The court then approved a temporary guardianship arrangement while all other matters were settled.
Denise and Howard were now seeking permanent guardianship, with Denise repeatedly emphasizing that an adoption would follow.
I postponed my studies. Instead, I took on an early shift in a warehouse and worked evenings in a supermarket near Vicky’s school and after-school care.
I’ve found out which laundry detergent doesn’t cause Vicky any itching.
Signed school forms.
I found out that she didn’t want me in her bedroom when she woke up screaming at 1:00 AM.
She wanted me to sit outside the door.
I could do that. I could do all of that. Or at least that’s what I’ve always told everyone.
The investigator took possession of her file.
« Today’s complaint appears to be unfounded. »
« Again? » I asked.
She sighed. « Not again. »
I accompanied her to the front door.
Before stepping outside, she paused.
„Michael?“
« Yes? »
« Repeated charges do not automatically make one appear guilty. »
Just to illustrate,
I rubbed my palm against my jeans.
« They don’t exactly make me look good. »
« No. But patterns are important. »
She left.
I knew exactly whose pattern she meant.
Denise arrived 40 minutes later.
She was wearing a cream-colored coat that probably cost more than two months’ rent and had a shopping bag with a glittery unicorn on it.
Vicky saw them through the window and stopped painting.
That told me more than any complaint ever had.
Denise rushed in as soon as I opened the door.
« There she is! »
She held out the bag.
« My beautiful little niece. »
Vicky didn’t move.
Denise’s smile froze into a pale line.
« It’s for you. »
“Thank you,” said Vicky.
« Well, open it then, darling. »
Vicky looked at me first.
That brief glance made Denise notice.
I said, « Go ahead. »
Inside was an expensive pink coat.
Vicky touched a sleeve.
« It is beautiful. »
Denise beamed.
« You’ll need something warm here. »
I looked at her. « With you? »
She turned to me as if she were surprised that I had heard it.
« For visits. »
« You didn’t say that. »
Denise sighed. « Michael, does everything have to end in an argument? »
» NO. «