Okay, what the fuck? Something is definitely wrong and I don't know what it is. I don't like not knowing things. I can't help but pace back and forth in my room as I think over the words I just not-so-accidentally overheard, surprisingly not managing to burn a hole through the floor in the process.

"We're going to court."

Yeah, sure, I did shit in the past—we all remember that— but that was short lived. And I don't seem like the type of person that used to do anything at all, and now I really don't do anything at all. I mean, I don't leave my room unless I'm hanging out with Emerald because we don't even have any other friends.

"So, what the fuck is going on?" My eyes widen as I realize I just asked that out loud. I cover my mouth and abruptly stop my pacing as, right on cue, my door is pushed open. Gee walks in first, followed closely by Linds who still has the now slightly-crumpled letter in her hands. I'm standing stock-still in the middle of my bedroom floor, not having had time to wipe the panic off my face.

Gee looks at me. "You didn't wait here, did you?" he asks, a hint of worry in his voice. He already knows the answer.

"I'm sorry." I apologize quickly before bursting out with the questions I'm dying to have answered. "I'm in trouble, aren't I? What did I do? It's something bad isn't it?" I begin my frantic pacing again, playing with my hands. "I'm sorry, what ever it is, I didn't mean to, I'll make it up to you, I—"

"Hey, Evelyn, sit down." Gee stops me by stepping forward and putting a hand on my shoulder. "You're not in trouble."

I obey and stop moving my feet, then sit on the end of my bed without another word. At first I just keep playing with my hands in my lap, but after hearing Lindsey whisper, "I'll leave you two to talk," I look up to see that she's now left the room. Gee now holds the letter. He takes a seat in the chair in the corner which hasn't moved from that spot since it got there.

The only sound in the room is the creaking of my bed-frame as I shift my weight uncomfortably, waiting for my dad to say something. To put me out of my misery. But whatever this is about, he can't bring himself to say it and I end up being the one to break the silence.

"Dad, what's happening?"

He takes a deep breath and looks at me with an expression I can't read, then back down at the letter. He thinks about it for what feels like an eternity, then finally hands it to me with hands that are shaking not enough to notice if you weren't looking for it.

I pan my eyes over the words. It's mostly legal stuff I don't understand or care about, but what I do understand is more than enough. Though what immediately jumps out at me is a name I haven't heard in a long time.

Laura Barry.

A name I hoped I'd never hear again.

Laura Barry has requested to regain custody of her biological child, Evelyn Maia Way (née Barry).

. . .

The court has not terminated her right to have custody over Evelyn Way.

. . .

The court hearing will be held March twenty-third at 11AM.

I nearly fall off my bed.

Eve's face is scarily void of emotion as her eyes scan the letter held tightly in her hands. I thought she might break down in tears at the first word. Hoped she wouldn't, of course, but thought she might.

I know I almost did.

Adoption is supposed to be permanent. That's what I was told during the length of the process and there are an abundance of forms with my signature on them to prove it. But apparently endless legal documents wasn't enough for the court who ruled that woman fit to take another crack at the whole parenting thing.

And after everything she put Evie through.

Eve finally looks up from the paper. "This isn't really happening," she says and places it down on her bed next to her all too calmly for how much her hands are trembling.

"I- I wish it wasn't. I know this must be really hard for you, Eve." I reach out to place a comforting hand on her knee, but she jerks out of the way. The last time she reacted to anything in this way (and the only other time I'd ever seen it happen) was the morning she smashed her mug of tea on the floor— the morning her foster family was killed in a car crash. It's scary how much her demeanour at this very moment is reminding me of that one.

"No, no, it's just not happening. I'm asleep." She tries to reason, a little less calmly. "This is a nightmare."

"Eve—"

"It's a nightmare, right?" She picks up the letter again and holds it up. It's shaking in her hand. "This? It- it'll be gone when I wake up."

The calm she managed to keep for longer than I thought possible crumbles and her eyes fill with tears. "Darling, I'm so sorry. If there was something I could do you can fucking bet I'd do it." I apologize because it's the only thing I can do, aside from moving from the chair to her bed and letting her fall into my arms.

"I-I just n-need to wake up... I h-have to wake up," she cries into my shoulder.

"Hey, it's all gon— we'll get through it, alright?"

"D-Dad please... please don't let them take me away. I don't wanna go back there, I don't wanna see her again. I c-can't."

I can't promise her what she wants, not even in her broken state. Not even with my T-shirt soaked in my daughter's tears do I dare tell her with absolute certainty that she'll never have to live with her mother again. I've promised that I'd protect her before and the worst almost happened, something that no amount of time will let me forgive myself for.

Life just fucks you over like that sometimes.

I settle on telling her, "I'll try my hardest."

"P-promise?" she asks, pulling away slowly so I can see her wide eyes and tear stained cheeks. She looks so innocent and it breaks my heart, remembering all over again what that woman put her through. And she was just a little girl.

Now she's my little girl and I plan on doing everything in my power not to have her taken away from me, and that's the one thing I can promise.

"Absolutely."