Fantasy, I tell myself.
Men like that don’t happen to women like me. That night was a glitch in the universe, a borrowed moment, not real life.
A knock sounds at the door.
“Hildy?” Claudia’s voice, soft but firm.
I open it halfway, already apologizing. “Sorry, I just needed a sec, I’m fi…”
She steps inside before I finish, expression tight with something I don’t recognize at first.
“I’m so sorry,” she says quickly. “I didn’t mean to invade, but when I saw OCFS pop up, I answered. Habit. Our phones are identical, and they were right next to each other in the box.”
My stomach drops.
“What?” I whisper.
“I’m sorry,” she repeats. “But they said it was urgent. They asked for you.”
My heart is already sprinting before she presses the phone into my hand.
Claudia doesn’t leave. She just stands there, steady, grounding, one hand on my shoulder like she’s holding me upright before the words even land.
“Hello?” My voice shakes.
There’s a pause, then a woman says my name. “Hildy? It’s Erin Lampert. From Fairview. I’m a social worker now with Chemung County.”
The room tilts. Erin was one of the few girls from school who wasn’t awful to me, thewhite trash trailer park girl.
“There was an accident tonight,” she says gently. “Your mother was driving. Third DWI. She hit a guardrail. She’s in the hospital and will likely be taken into custody after they release her.” I close my eyes. “And your little sister was in the car.”
Lucy.
I know she exists. I’ve seen pictures on Facebook. Heard her name tossed at me like a weapon. But she was never part of my world.
“She’s three,” Erin says softly. “You were listed as the emergency contact. She broke her wrist and cannot be released without placement.”
My hand trembles around the phone.
“I’ve never even met her,” I whisper.
“I know,” Erin says. “But you’re the only one listed. She needs someone, Hildy.”
Behind me, Claudia’s hand tightens on my shoulder, solid and warm and a reminder that this is all very real.
Fantasy evaporates. Reality doesn’t knock politely. It crashes in.
Lucy. Three years old. Alone. Connected to me by blood and paperwork and nothing else… until now.
“Okay. I’ll see when the next train leaves and let you know when I’ll be there.”
“I’ll stay until you arrive.” She says sweetly, but it doesn’t land softly.
My pulse quickens; I feel anxiety beginning to brew inside of me. I have school, work, hell, I barely make ends meet as it is. How am I going to take care of her?
“Erin, I…”
“Take down my personal number and take your time.”
