“We're very sorry.”
Nothing happens for what feels like an eternity. Tear after tear falls from his staring eyes. The first reaction breaks through when he realizes the magnitude of the situation. The panic returns, the despair. “The twins, I... fuck, what will happen to my brothers? Do they have to go to a group home? They’re staying with me, right? I’m of age, I’m allowed to take them.”
Dayyan’s voice breaks, single tears merge into torrents that run down his cheeks and mine. I liked Dayyan’s parents, for me his mom was the mom I never had. They accepted me for who I am from the beginning and welcomed me into their family with open arms.
“The Child Protective Services will decide where your brothers will stay. They have custody until further notice.”
Gently I lean close to Dayyan’s ear. “We have to call my fathers, they’ll know what to do. We need help.”
He nods frantically. “Please, now.”
“Can I leave you alone?” He nods, but I don’t believe him. Nevertheless, I walk to the kitchen and dial our number on the landline.
“Delfosse.” I hear the tension in Papa’s voice. I immediately switch to French.
“Papa, c’est moi!We need your help. There’s been an accident, Dayyan’s parents...! Child Protective Services are coming for the twins. They can’t take them away.” My voice breaks.
“Jannis, slow down, where are you?”
“At Dayyan’s.”
“And his parents had an accident?”
“They’re dead.”
“Fuck.” There is silence on the other end of the line for a moment. I hear Paps in the background. “We’ll be there in ten.”
When I return to the living room, everything is quiet. The policemen have left, but the woman is still there, a counselor, she says. Dayyan is curled up in a little ball on the couch, his whole body shaking in waves, but his tears are quiet. I carefully sit down next to him, and he immediately wraps his arms around my waist. He holds me as if his life depends on it, and probably it does. When the doorbell rings, the counselor gets up, and I am infinitely grateful to her that I don’t have to let go of Dayyan.
My fathers. Relief washes over me, even though I can see how upset they both are. Paps is crying, his eyes are red. Papa pulls himself together, but his lower lip is trembling. Since Dayyan and I have been together, our parents have also become friends.
They both sit down to our right and left. Paps puts a hand on Dayyan’s back, while Papa puts an arm around my shoulder. For as long as I can remember, he’s always calmed me down. Somehow, I’ve always known that with him, everything will be fine in the end. I don’t know where I’m getting my hope from right now, because in this moment I’d rather curl up around Dayyan and cry with him, but deep down I know even though everything is incredibly shitty right now and the road ahead is steep and bumpy, we’ll get through this and eventually the sun will shine again. I know it. We just have to be patient.
“What happened?”
I quickly shake my head and Paps turns to the counselor with a friendly smile. “Our son can’t speak openly when you’re in the room, could we ask you to leave for a moment?”
And then we are alone. Dayyan is no longer crying; he stares into space, not responding when spoken to, still clinging to meas if I’d vanish into thin air as soon as he loosens his grip. Words that were so simple and clear in my head refuse to come out.
Between sobs and tears, I tell them the little we know, each word as painful as a knife in my chest.
“They’re taking the twins. I know it.” I’ve heard Dayyan’s voice in different variations over the last hour, but never like this – panicked, contorted with pain.
“Who?”
“Child Protective Services.”
“Why would they do that? What makes you think that? Where are the twins anyway?” Paps tries to keep his voice calm, stroking Dayyan's back.
“In bed. The police said Child Protective Services has custody now. I just started university, I’m gone all day, I can’t take care of them. They’re taking them away.” Dayyan is frighteningly clear as he describes the current situation, even Papa behind me flinches.
“We’ve worked with Child Protective Services long enough, we’ll find a solution.”
Chapter 45
Dayyan
“Katharina, what are you doing here?” Philipp hugs the woman, who just rang our doorbell, tightly and I look questioningly at my boyfriend.
