“That,” Maggie says, lowering her voice, “is why this matters. She gets to see women fixing things. Leading things. I’m so proud of you, Poppy. Look at everything you’ve done. You’ve really nailed it. I know your momma would be so proud of you.”
My chest tightens. “Don’t make me cry, Maggie.”
“I’m not trying to make you cry, but this matters, sugar.Youmatter,” she says as she lays a palm to my cheek. I lean into her hand because her touch is so soothing. A mother’stouch. Something I desperately miss. My mom, Grace, was my biggest cheerleader. She would have loved that I was doing this. She always encouraged me to do whatever I wanted.
The glass door to the shop swings open, and a lady comes in, clipboard in hand, a badge clipped to her jacket.
“Poppy Murphy?” she asks.
“Yes,” I say, standing. “Can I help you?”
“I’m with Child Protective Services,” she says. “We received a report on Owen Murphy and are doing an investigation.”
I look at her, confused. “Oh. Is this about what Coach Toddy did to him at school? We already spoke with Sheriff Matthews.”
“No, ma’am,” the woman says calmly. “This is a new complaint we just received regarding child neglect.”
Relief rushes through me so fast it almost knocks me dizzy.
Of course it is. Of course it’s about him.
Sully. My mind starts racing ahead, already building defenses, already angry, already tired. And now it’s finally catching up to us.
“Okay,” I say carefully. “Because his father, Sully, hasn’t been involved? There’s an open court?—”
The woman hesitates. “I’m sorry, I think there’s been a misunderstanding. The complaint isn’t about the child’s father.”
The air feels like it’s been sucked out of the room.
“It’s about you,” she continues. “As the child’s primary caregiver.”
My stomach drops so hard it feels like I might be sick. Me?
Maggie scoffs. “Well, that’s absolutely a lie.”
The wordliecuts sharp through the room.
I stare at her, waiting for the punchline. Waiting for someone to laugh and say this is a mistake. My ears start ringing,and suddenly every sound feels too loud and too far away at the same time.
“That doesn’t make sense,” I whisper. “I take great care of him.”
Maggie steps closer, one hand landing firm and steady on my back.
“Someone filed a report alleging neglect,” the woman says gently. “We’re required to follow up.”
Horror creeps in, cold and heavy. Who would do this? Who would look at my life, at everything I’ve held together with bare hands and exhaustion, and say that I’m the one failing him?
My chest tightens, disbelief giving way to something darker. Fear. Not for me, but for Owen. Because I can handle being judged. But I will not let anyone take him from me.
He has everything he needs, doesn’t he? I mean sure I struggled a bit with groceries there, but he has never missed a meal, and he’s had everything he needs. I’ve made sure of that. I went without before he ever would. I made sure he’s had everything.
“So, just to clarify, you are Poppy?” she asks as she looks over her clipboard.
“I am.”
“And you don’t currently have guardianship over Owen, is that correct? Your father...Sullivan Murphy is his father?”
“I don’t have official guardianship, but I have raised him for the past eleven years,” I tell her.
