CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

ZARA’S DAY LASTED THREE HUNDRED FIFTEEN HOURS before Chad pulled up to the house with take-and-bake pizza. Even though it was only six, she had the oven preheated and the kids in their pajamas. There’d been no warm-up period to parenting, no chance to read all the books, no newborn who couldn’t move of their own free will. She’d known it would be difficult. But tonight, Zara was beaten.

Sometimes the hours flew by, and she ran around trying to get things done before the day ended. But at other times, it was like the seconds took an eternity to click around the clock. Her brain was either on fire with the rapid pulse of keeping up, or teetering on the edge of a coma due to boredom. And when was it that she felt grateful? Thinking about that just added to the guilt.

Chad entered the house and was swarmed by two little munchkins. His face lit up, and he engulfed them in his long arms, giving the kids everything they needed with just his safe and steady affection.

He came close and kissed Zara’s cheek, but she felt herself pull away, forcing some distance she didn’t really desire. “I’ll take the kids for a quick walk down the field and give you a breather.”

His sweet smile and offer that felt more luxurious than a two-hour massage brought tears to her eyes. “Thank you.”

The dog trailed after them. She watched her husband, Sammy on his shoulders, Charlotte holding his hand, walking toward the sun. It was beautiful. The way the light silhouetted them was an image more glorious than any piece of art, but it was a picture Zara didn’t seem to fit in.

She peeled the plastic wrap from the pizza and slid it into the oven, half of it only cheese, the other half everything.

A family had always been in her dreams for the future. Yet she’d never imagined feeling so lonely and incompetent.

The doctor’s appointment had made the disaster at the library feel like a vacation. Both kids were terribly behind on vaccinations, so Dr. Kiddle thought this would be a great time to stick needles into them—many times. There were warnings posted in workplaces with loud noises, but no one warned about the risk of hearing loss faced in the first weeks of foster parenting.

To top it off, while the doctor was able to get access to their immunizations through the online database, he didn’t have their other medical records. A caseworker would have to find out who’d seen them and make a request. With Sammy so undersized for his age, Dr. Kiddle wanted to know if this had been true since his birth, or if he’d been losing weight recently.

They would have to come back in a month for a weight check. Getting them into the office again would be a challenge even for Supernanny.

Zara rubbed her hand over an ear. If only it were just the hearing she could lose. In the four days since the children’s arrival, she’d fallen two months behind schedule. The math didn’t work out, but this was where she landed. Zara’s Garden, the business she’d been babying for three years, was finally taking its own steps. And Zara wasn’t able to keep up.

The tension started to ease as the tears found a way to escape. She was so overwhelmed, so tired her bones ached, so beaten and heartsick and also so totally in love with her niece and nephew. Eve might be the other half of her, but how would Zara ever gain the strength to hand the children back and trust that her twin would be able to protect them?

Eve

June 6, 2019

She came at me. Not like a physical attack, but I wish it had been. Bonnie walked right into my personal space and whispered in my ear, “He knows you’re here, and you better know he’s mad you sicced the cops on him.” Then she walked away as if she hadn’t just thrown a threat at me.

I don’t know how to get to Joey and tell him I don’t have anything to do with the police wanting to arrest him. It’s not like I called Tiff to come get me. I didn’t even press charges or give the cops his name. They can’t make me, and I’ll never testify.

The caseworkers said I won’t get the kids back if I’m living with Joey. It’s part of the requirements. I don’t know what to do. I still love him.

I love Charlotte and Sammy too, and they’re my kids. I’m supposed to be the one who cares for them and keeps them safe. But I’m not even doing as well as my mother did. I can’t be with Joey anymore. And I’m afraid he’ll kill me if I don’t come back.

At least today I’m still clean, and I get to visit my kids. That’s what I’m thankful for.

TIFF AND BRUCE SAT WITH PASTOR JIM in a cool gray room with the scent of lemon hanging in the air, and all Tiff could think about was how she’d failed so many people in her life. They were two questions into the appointment when the tears took over, leaving her as surprised as her husband.

“What’s wrong?” There was an edge of defensiveness in his tone.

Pastor Jim leaned forward. “Bruce, do you think her tears are about you?”

He shrugged. “I guess.”

Tiff wiped her face with the tissues the pastor handed to her.

“Tiff, are you upset by something Bruce has done or said?”

She shook her head, unable to put her feelings into words.

“Most of the time I meet with couples, we run into the same problem from different angles. Communication. We get into the habit of deciding what our spouse is thinking without asking them or listening to them.”

They spent the entire hour with Pastor Jim coaching them through a conversation. At first, it seemed ridiculous. Why would they need someone to teach them how to speak to each other after nearly thirty years of marriage?

It didn’t take long to see they’d let the skill diminish.

Why had they waited so long?

By the time Tiff left counseling to pick up Eve, she was already an emotional time bomb herself. Not the image she wanted to portray.

Tiff adjusted her rearview mirror.

The same conversation between Tiff and Bruce had been on repeat in her mind for days. She owed him her best, but he’d have to love her for who she was now. Compromise was the only way toward reconnection. If pressed, Tiff could at least say she was conservatively hopeful they could find the right path again.

As Tiff neared the women’s shelter, a part of her shrank, as if she were cheating on her marriage. She wasn’t the woman who’d walked down the aisle to marry Bruce. And he wasn’t the same man. Life and loss had changed them, in some ways for the better, but more often, she wasn’t sure.

Eve was already sitting out front on the bench. She clutched her bag in both hands, as though she feared someone would steal it out here in the open. It was time to start moving forward. The next steps were helping her obtain a job, stay clean and sober, and learn how to be a parent.

Society possessed a shortsighted nature. In general, it meted out punishment for broken laws, then expected people to move forward changed and never to repeat the problem behavior. If only it were that easy. Eve didn’t seem to have any skills. She’d told Tiff that she did graduate high school, which was a great start, but there wasn’t exactly a résumé of work experience to draw from.

Today, Tiff had driven the nice car. It made her feel uncomfortable, but the clunker refused to start, and Tiff didn’t have time to get someone to look at it. She unrolled the window and waved to get Eve’s attention.

Her eyes rounded when she realized who was behind the wheel, but a second later, she came around to the passenger side.

“Thank you for taking me again.”

The confidence Tiff had hoped would blossom in the absence of the drug’s haze had not appeared. If anything, Eve’s words had grown softer, her demeanor smaller.

“We have some extra time. How about a quick lunch?”

Eve’s gaze remained trained out the window, as if she’d been released after a long prison sentence. “Sure. That would be nice.”

Getting Eve to suggest where and what to eat was a wash, so Tiff chose a place near the DHS offices known for serving amazing hamburgers.

The restaurant had a fifties theme, with a checkered floor and Formica tabletops, but the girl who led them to their booth had a tattoo on her neck and a piercing in her lip that really broke up the atmospheric illusion.

Once they were seated, Tiff was able to look Eve in the face. The bruising had subsided significantly, but she still had a sallow appearance. “How have you been? Is the shelter working out okay?”

She nodded.

“Do you have any plans as to what you’ll do next?”

Eve picked at her fingernail. “I don’t know.”

A server in a red-and-white dress covered with a frilled white apron approached. “What can I get you ladies today?”

Tiff ordered, then Eve repeated it word for word.

The woman nodded, scribbled something on her order pad, and left.

“I really want to help. How about we make a list?” Tiff took a notebook out of her purse. “What are the things you need to do for DHS to return the kids?”

She seemed to sink farther into the seat.

“I know it seems impossible, but I can help you. Eve, you’re stronger than you think.” A familiar quote about strength and bravery ran through Tiff’s memory. They were words she’d repeated to her children so many times. Now she hoped Lindsay had remembered those words and known how special she was.

“I’m not strong at all. I’m not sure I can do this.” There was a catch in Eve’s voice, as if her throat didn’t want to let the words out into the open air.

“How are you doing with your sobriety? Have you been to the class at the shelter?”

She nodded. “I sat in. I’m doing okay.”

“That’s great. See, you’re already making progress.” What if Eve didn’t pass the drug test before the visit? What would happen then? “When you get further along in your healing, we can help you find a job. The new caseworker, Kelly, said she has a list of employers willing to give women a chance.”

“I don’t know how to do anything . . . legal.”

“And that must be scary, but if you take this one day at a time, soon you’ll be able to get additional training and move into a job you love.”

They fell silent, Eve staring at her hands. Tiff was a fraud. While her desire to help was genuine, her empathy had been stunted by good fortune. It was ungrateful to even think like that, but how was she supposed to connect with Eve when she couldn’t imagine how she felt?

ZARA’S NERVES WERE ALL BOUND UP in knots she couldn’t untangle. She gripped the steering wheel, thankful Chad had taken a long lunch and would meet them at the DHS office. In a few minutes, Zara would be in the same building as her sister for the very first time in ten years. Her body raged when she thought of all Eve had put Charlotte and Sammy through. How was she supposed to forgive her twin or even look at her face—a mirror image of her own?

In the back seat, Charlotte sang a song inappropriate for a five-year-old while Sammy thunked the back of Zara’s seat with his new cowboy boots.

She made the last turn into the parking lot.

Chad was leaning up against the pickup, waiting.

She opened her door, and Charlotte’s lyrics spilled out.

“We really need to get some kids’ music playing around the house.” Chad gave her a worried look.

“I’m doing the best I can.”

His hand settled on her arm. “That’s not what I meant. You didn’t teach her that song. I meant we need to teach her some new ones. Are you doing okay?”

She took in a breath; it sounded like her lungs were having a seizure as she tried to blow out the growing tension. “I’ll be okay. I promise.”

“No worries. I’m here to help.”

She touched his cheek, stubble already growing out from this morning’s shave. “Thank you.”

“Oh gross,” Charlotte hollered, breaking the moment. “Are you going to kiss?”

Chad laughed and kissed her forehead.

Both of Charlotte’s chubby hands covered her eyes, and Sammy laughed, though Zara doubted he understood what was funny. To him, this was all a game designed for his personal amusement.

Before she was ready, Chad unbuckled Charlotte while she got Sammy and the diaper bag. They’d learned a lesson or two already. One of those was never leave the house without diapers and wipes. For some reason, that mistake was as good as giving a month’s worth of fiber to a little boy.

They walked to the entrance, a child in each of their arms and Chad’s free hand around her waist. To anyone who didn’t know them, they would look like a normal family, but this building was their truth. These were not their children. The facts followed Zara like a black cloud, pelting her with condemnation. You’re a fraud. You could never be a decent mother. And you’ll never get the chance to try.

The stream of nagging words told her she was not enough with such power, they might as well have been real. When Zara first became a believer, thoughts like those were pushed to the background, replaced by the understanding that God did not see her that way. To Him, she was a precious daughter. Yet thoughts of Eve and the current situation were shoving her back to old ways. In Zara’s mind, her sister was stealing from her, taking her peace and letting her hold these children for a short time, only to rip out her heart and destroy it.

Cold air—too cold—met them as they opened the door. The waiting area was a near-empty void. She stepped up to the counter and waited for the woman sitting there to acknowledge her, but she kept typing away at her ergonomic keyboard.

“Excuse me.”

The woman held up a hand, palm out in a stop motion.

Zara gave Chad an eye roll the receptionist couldn’t see as he shuffled the kids to the corner where a few toys were set up. Her inner germaphobe wailed at the thought of the bacteria and viruses that must have plagued that play cube.

“Okay. Now, how can I help you?”

Zara shifted her attention back to the woman. “We’re here for the kids to have a visit.”

“You’re the foster parents?”

That label irritated Zara. It separated the children from them, as if they didn’t belong at their home. It meant substitute, not as good, a last-ditch alternative. It was a divide that she couldn’t stomach. Zara might not have known Charlotte and Sammy until recently, but she loved them. “Yes. For Charlotte and Samuel.”

The woman stood. “We don’t usually have the foster families up here. Didn’t anyone tell you about the other entrance?”

Zara shook her head. Now they weren’t good enough to enter through the front door?

“Let me get someone to take you back to the foster parent waiting area.”

As the receptionist disappeared, Charlotte’s voice rose above the layer of tension. “Mom!”

Zara spun. And there she was. Her twin. The image that stared back at her was one she’d longed for and one that broke her. Behind her, a woman stood off to the side.

Charlotte launched into Eve’s thin, scarred arms.

Something held Zara’s feet still while her heart begged to go forward. Her brain was scrambled between loyalty and love for her sister and fury as she watched Eve hug the child she’d chosen drugs over. Her jaw tightened until it ached. There was a real longing to hate Eve for what she’d done and who she’d become. But hating Eve meant hating a part of herself. They were not just sisters but identical twins.

Eve’s eyes rose, and her gaze found Zara’s, a connection binding them together across the room.

Through the filter of tears, Zara saw her sister, thin and weakened. Yellowed bruises marred her face and neck, accentuating the brown circles under her eyes. She didn’t wear makeup, and her clothes fit like they belonged to a larger woman.

Eve had been a partier, and Zara had known she was abusing the medications from her knee surgery, but she honestly hadn’t thought it would come to this. Zara had left a bit of herself behind to die.

Chad’s eyes begged Zara to join the group, so she forced one foot, then the other to make the journey from where she stood to her sister. “Eve.”

Charlotte remained twisted around her leg.

But Sammy was lost in the similarity. He stood between them, his focus bouncing back and forth like a game of Pong. Then his eyes filled with tears, and he started to wail.

Eve and Zara bent at the same time, their shoulders colliding as they reached for Sammy. In unison, both stood. Zara gasped. It was like watching a reflection of herself after a battle with the flu, their movements matching.

“I’m sorry.” Zara backed away, but so did Eve.

“No.” She curled her lips over her teeth. “I’m sorry. I put you in this position. I’m sorry you had to take the kids.” She lifted Sammy, her movements stilted, as if it were a struggle.

Placing her palm across her collarbone, Zara bit her tongue to hold back a wave of emotion.

Kelly appeared from out of nowhere. “Okay. Eve, I’m going to need to take you with me for a minute. One of my coworkers will take the kids and foster parents to the other waiting area while we visit.” She placed her hand on Eve’s back, urging her to return Sammy to Zara, then led her toward a door.

Charlotte climbed into Chad’s arms.

“Eve?” Zara’s voice was as weak as her heart.

She turned, her mouth forming a sad smile, then left with Kelly.

Before Zara could crumble, Chad had her. Sammy and Charlotte clung to their hips. Where was the happy ending going to come from?

“Chad and Zara, will you please follow me?” A man with spiked dark hair and a DHS badge pointed to the door at the back of the room.

But before they could get far, the woman who’d brought Eve in slipped her hand into hers. “I just want you to know, I’m praying, and I’ll help however I can.” She stepped back, leaving something pressed into Zara’s palm.