Dr. King pressed her lips together. “Weeks, but that’s honestly optimistic. More likelyaweek.”
Denise took a shuddering breath.Fuck.
Chapter 3
Denise pushed openthe door and ushered the kids in under her arm. “Shoesoff.”
“Can we play with the dogs in the back?” Kimber’s big, doe-brown eyes stared up from her porcelain-doll face. One of her pigtails had drooped, giving her a lopsidedappearance.
“Please, Aunt Denny?” Kaden, a male version of his sister, chimedin.
“Go ask AuntBree.”
“Yay!” They bounded out of the mudroom and into the kitchen, yelling for Bree. Denise knew she’d let them play outside. Hell, they deserved it after the morning they’dhad.
She sighed and kicked off her shoes. Sprocket sat and licked her chops, staring up at her. “Go on. You can play, too.” Giving Denise a big puppy grin, she trotted after the kids. Sometimes she wondered if Sprocket forgot she was a dog. Or maybe she was the one who forgot Sprocket was adog.
“Hey. How’d it go?” Bree stood at the counter choppingvegetables.
Denise opened the fridge and pushed food around the make room for the bowl of fruit salad she’d brought. “As well as can be expected.” She grabbed the pitcher of tea Bree always had ready. “Sarah slept a lot and the kids weresad.”
Setting the pitcher down, she stared at the counter. “Am I doing the right thing? Making them see her when she’s likethis?”
Bree stopped chopping. “They’ll regret the time they missed later in life if youdon’t.”
Leaning back against the counter, she ran her hands over her face, before scraping her hair behind her ears. “Maybe. What if I’m just damagingthem?”
“Kids are resilient.” Her friend leaned a hip against the counter. “Have you talked to Dr. Tailor aboutit?”
“Yeah.” She dropped her hands. “She gave me a reference for a grief and family counselor, but I can’t get an appointment till nextmonth.”
“Your parents going to takethem?”
It welled up out of nowhere, an unstoppable force she had no control over. She dropped her head and blew out a breath, letting her hair fall around her face like acurtain.
“What?”
Fighting to keep her emotions at bay, she struggled to speak past the lump in her throat, but all she could do was shake her head. God, she hated this stupid fuckingweakness.
Bree crouched down to look at her through the curtain of hair. “Denise…what?”
A tear escaped. “Sarah’s giving me custody.” Her voice sounded harsh in her ownears.
A second tear followed the first then athird.
“Shit.” Bree grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the kitchen, down the hall to her bedroom. Closing the door hard, she thumbed the lock. “Talk.”
“What am I going to do?” Tears flowed freely, no matter what she did to stop them. Why couldn’t she stop them? She sat on the bed, defeat hammering at herdefenses.
Bree sat next to her and pulled Denise’s hand into her lap. “Aboutwhat?”
“Everything. I don’t know how to take care ofkids.”
“You can’t do any worse than some people,” she saiddryly.
She pulled her hand away. “Bree, I’m beingserious.”
“So am I.” She reached over and snagged some tissues from the box by the bed. Handing them to her, she waited while Denise blew her nose. “Lay it out. What’s your firstconcern?”
