Power of the Keys (Jackett Family Book #2)

EPILOGUE

LUCY

“I don’t think I can do this,” Stasia whispers from the backseat.

The truck is already safely in park, so Keys turns to look at her, “I think you can, Stas, but if it is too much I will take you back home and we will try again another day. I’m sure they’ll understand.”

“You don’t think they’d be angry?” She asked, her voice still too quiet…too small.

“No, sweetheart. They’re very understanding and don’t want to rush things too much.”

“But my social worker,” she begins.

“Your social worker can kiss my ass,” Keys cuts her off. “This isn’t about what she wants or even what they want. This is about you and your comfort level. You’re in charge here. You tell us what you want to do and that is what we will do. Anybody who takes issue with that can answer to me.”

She takes a deep breath and nods to nobody in particular. “I can do this, but if it gets to be too much…” 

She’s asking for an out, something I have no problem giving her. “You say the word and we’re out of there. You’re so fucking brave, Stasia. You’ve got this.”

The “they” we are referring to are Stasia’s maternal grandparents. Her mom, Bethany Manuel, was my age when she was taken all those years ago. Over the last couple of months, I’ve learned a lot about her. Her story sounds eerily similar to mine. The only difference is that she didn’t make it back to her family and I was lucky enough that I did.

Even though I had been granted guardianship, the FBI was insistent on locating Stasia’s biological family. As a ward of the state, she was also assigned a case worker, and Keys and I had to jump through a lot of hoops to keep her in our care. It’s all been worth it, I don’t regret anything. Getting Stasia through these last six months has been healing for me as well.

At the beginning of the year, Stasia started seeing a therapist who specializes in the type of trauma that she’s experienced. After each session I see the weight of her past lifting off her shoulders. She smiles a lot now, something that it took me a lot longer to do. In many ways, she is a normal teenage girl. In others, she’s lived a million lives and has the scars to prove it.

She was also enrolled in online school to help her catch up on credits that she missed. Although she enjoys the freedom and flexibility of the school, she is looking forward to starting her junior year in person. Where she’ll be attending is still up in the air, we’re hoping it’ll be in the small private school we found near us. Unfortunately, the state feels that a kinship placement is better for Stasia. That’s not something I want to think about right now.

It didn’t take long for the DNA test to come back with the truth of who Stasia was. Bronte was actually not her biological father. I’m not sure if that fact helped or hurt her. From what we can gather, it was his mother’s idea to keep Stasia and raise her as his own. Broderick thinks seeing my dad on TV really triggered something because he seemed to snap after that. He’s been sitting in a prison cell awaiting his trial, refusing to share much at all with the authorities. That’s fine by us, he’s caused us too much pain and we prefer to ignore his existence.

Stasia’s social worker was insistent on her getting to know her grandparents. They’ve talked on the phone plenty of times, but today will be the first time meeting them. We’re meeting at a local park, it seemed like a good neutral spot. I can actually see them from where we are. Her grandmother is so sweet and I know if I told her Stasia was too nervous, they’d reschedule. She’s so fucking brave though, I know she can do this.