Page 141 of The Advocate’s Ultimatum

“Toward the children?”

“Toward anyone smaller or weaker.”

JP wrote that down.

“Did he care about Hannah?”

“He cared that Hannah existed when it helped him punish Yvonne.”

“And Yvonne?”

Rochelle sighed.

“My sister-in-law had a gift for picking men who arrived charming and left dangerous. Marcus was one of them. The first notable one.”

“You thought the children were unsafe with Yvonne?”

“I knew they were. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t think Yvonne would hurt any of her kids, but she could not stay away from the bad boys. After Hayes went to prison, she found another one. He beat her so bad, she ended up in the hospital. The prisons are filled with Yvonne’s exes.”

Her voice stayed controlled, but JP heard old fury beneath it.

“Hannah was sweet. And August was trying to become a man before he was old enough to shave. They lived in chaos, and everyone called it hardship because hardship sounds nobler.”

JP looked at a note in the file. “And you tried for custody?”

“I tried for common sense.” A pause. “The system prefers paperwork.”

She sounded like someone who had spent time in family court. “It seems like you loved the kids.”

“With everything I had. I still do.”

“Even August?”

“He wasn’t blood,” Rochelle said. “But he was family.”

“What happened after Hannah disappeared?”

“I stayed around for two years looking and waiting for her, because every week I thought there’d be a call, a sighting, bones in a field, or a girl at a bus station. Something, anything.” Her voice thinned but never broke.

“And then?”

“There was nothing left.”

“What do you mean?”

“Yvonne was broken in ways grief can’t explain politely, and she looked to another bad man for comfort. Marcus drifted in and out, making noise. August was carrying pain no child should carry. The neighborhood moved on. Reporters stopped calling. Even pity got bored.”

JP said nothing.

“So, I left,” she said. “I took a nursing position in Oregon, then Maine. I spent my life taking care of people I could actually reach.”

“I have to ask you some hard questions.”

“Go ahead.”

“Did you take Hannah?” JP asked bluntly, knowing if she had, she wouldn’t tell the truth. But he could often tell by the way someone answered.

“No.” No outrage or hesitation. Just denial.