Page 44 of Main Event

I look at him.

“You’re telling me this now because of Deja?” I ask.

“I’m telling you this now because you came to this house and asked us to protect a child,” he says. “And I can’t say yes to that honestly without acknowledging what I did to you.”

Linda has her hand on his arm. Not restraining—steady.

I think about what it cost him. Sam Woods, who measures words the way he measures risk.

This isn’t calculated.

“I know you’re not that person,” I say. Finally. To his face. “I’ve known for a while. I just needed to hear it.”

He nods once.

“Tell us about Deja,” Linda says.

So I do.

Kelly comes downstairs while I’m still there. She stops in the doorway, reads the room, and starts to retreat.

“Stay, sweetheart,” I say. “I need to ask you something.”

She comes in and sits on the arm of the couch beside Linda, facing me. Her features have changed with age, but even more so with the care and love she’s received since she moved into this home. She’s still my little sister from Jackson’s house, but she’s much more than that now. She has Luke and Brandon, older brothers who love and protect her. She has Sam and Linda, who have shown her nothing but pure love and support since the moment they took her in. She has Alicia, another sister who loves her and takes her on shopping sprees, and Greg, a brother-in-law who teases, spoils, and loves her just as Luke and Brandon do.

She finally knows she is loved. And it shows in everything Kelly is.

“There’s a girl at the center,” I say. “Her name is Deja. She’s your age. She’s been through some things that are hard to talk about, and I’ve asked her to consider coming here, and she’s thinking about it. But she doesn’t trust adults right now.” I look at Kelly. “With good reason.”

Kelly is very still.

“I wondered if you’d be willing to talk to her,” I say. “Not to convince her to do something she doesn’t want to do. Just to be someone who came through the system and is standing on the other side of it.”

Kelly looks at Sam and Linda. Something passes between them that I can’t fully read but understand.

“Yeah,” Kelly says. “I’ll talk to her.”

Deja comes back to me two days after our conversation about Kelly.

Not to talk about it. She comes in, helps with the afternoon program, and does her homework. I don’t push. I told her to take whatever time she needed, and I meant it.

It’s nearly five o’clock when she appears in my office doorway.

“The people you mentioned,” she says. “Sam and Linda.”

“Yes.”

“Kelly lives there with them?”

“Yes, she does.”

She looks at the window. At the activity room, the homework tables, and the door that faces the street. She’s been coming through that door every day for four months. It’s the closest thing to hers that she has. It’s the closest thing to a home she’s known for far too long.

“Can we go over there now?” she says.

I observe her, recognizing the unique courage of someone who has understood that waiting doesn’t improve safety; it merely prolongs the wait.

“Yes,” I say. “We can go now.”