“Regina, what you said last time was of great concern. I’ve contacted the Child Protective Services and looked into options—hypothetically, you understand—for your care until you reach the age of majority.”
I sit bolt upright.
She holds up her hand in a stop sign. “I’m having your files reviewed, and I mean all of your files, including medical records dating back several years in order to prepare a case if need be before family court. But I’m not promising anything. The records may show a suspicious enough pattern to cause concern. But, I must emphasize, I’m not promising anything.”
“I get it. The records won’t mean anything when Angela explains that I grew up on a horse farm and of course I’d have broken bones and injuries.” I mock Angela’s tone, “It’s to be expected, Your Honor, it’s a rough sport.”
Brenda shuffles some papers on her desk. “There’d be additional testimony.”
“Whose testimony? Do I have to say something? In front of her?” I despise the tiny quiver in my voice.
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