Honolulu, Hawaii ~ Federal Courthouse
Sweat trickled down Gretchen’s back as she cradled a sleeping child in her arms. Her fingertips brushed over the little blonde curls. Jami Tollman was a beautiful child with a precarious future. And right now, her future was balancing on the razor’s edge of the American justice system. But Ms. Gardner was on the job. As her intern, Gretchen had heard her boss rehearse again and again. The argument was fierce and compelling. There was no way she could lose. However, stranger things had happened… but not this time. The fates wouldn’t be so cruel to this little girl.
Gretchen looked up at the clock mounted on the cinderblock wall next to the security station. They’d been there for only half an hour. It’d probably be another thirty minutes—unless the judge ruled quickly. She caught a strong whiff of cigarette smoke as a boney woman with greasy hair stepped up to the security stop. The burly guard gave her little notice, his eyes on a man behind her dressed in shackles and escorted by two police officers.
Gretchen held little Jami tight. This was no place for a five-year-old girl. If life were fair, she’d just be getting home from kindergarten, returning to a loving mother. She would bake her cookies and ask how school went as she hugged her and pressed a kiss to her soft cheek. When her father came home, she’d run up, he’d lift her up above his head, twirl her around, and drop her in his arms, telling her what an amazing child she was.
But life was rarely fair.
The doors to the courtroom opened and people began to push through, like cattle escaping the coral. Gretchen found the person she was looking for. She sucked in a breath and held it as her heart froze. Ms. Gardner looked downcast. When she saw Gretchen watching her, she shook her head, confirming it didn’t go well.
Gretchen had to force herself not to take the child in her arms and bolt out the door. That likely wouldn’t go over well. Kidnapping was a serious crime. Well, beating a child almost to death was worse—or so she thought.
Ms. Gardner didn’t say a word to Gretchen. What was there to say, other than, ‘we lost’? Instead, she approached little Jami.
“Jami, sweetie.” She sleepily opened her eyes.
“Can I go home now, Ms. Gardner?” she asked, her pudgy hands rubbing tired eyes. Gretchen knew she wasn’t talking about her father’s home. She wanted to return to the nice family that took care of her and treated her like a princess—the one hoping to adopt her.
“Jami, the court’s decided your daddy feels terrible about what he did, and they think you’d be better off living with him.”
Jami didn’t seem to grasp what was said. She sat in silent stillness.
“Come on, sweetie,” Ms. Gardner said. “Your daddy’s waiting for you.”
Jami’s head bobbed in a nod as she slipped off Gretchen’s lap. She stood there, not moving for several moments. Then, like a flash, she was running toward the front door. After a short, stunned second, Ms. Gardner and Kyle, her assistant, went running after her.
Gretchen caught herself before shouting, ‘Run Jami, run!’ She might not have said it, but she was definitely thinking it—praying she could getaway. But where would a five-year-old girl escape to?
It was only seconds later when they returned—Kyle carrying the screaming, flailing child in his arms. “You can’t make me go back! I don’t want to live with my daddy. I want Mommy Jill. Let go of me!”
“Ms. Winters.” Gretchen’s head snapped up at the sharp tone of Ms. Gardner’s voice. “What were you doing? Why did you just stand there like an idiot when Jami ran? You didn’t even attempt to catch her. You were the closest one to her.”
“I… I’m sorry. But this is wrong. How can we send her back to that monster?” Gretchen stammered. She clenched her hands to keep them from shaking—or wringing someone’s neck.
“What do you suppose we do—short of letting a five-year-old child run loose in Honolulu?” Ms. Gardner asked.
“I don’t know. We just can’t let her go back to him.”
“Listen, Gretchen, I understand how upset you are. I’m feeling quite angry at the justice system myself. But we have no choice. The judge has made his decision, and we have to respect that. Whatever happens is on his conscience now. I’ve done all I can.”
“Whatever happens, Jami will have to live with it—if she survives,” Gretchen answered.
“Get your filthy hands off my daughter.” Gretchen looked back to Kyle. Jami’s father was yelling as he wrestled his kicking, screaming daughter from the assistant’s grip. Mr. Tollman yanked Jami free and pulled her to his chest. She seemed to give up the fight as she held still.
“Don’t worry, baby,” he said. “Daddy won’t ever let you go again.”
Gretchen strode forward, not stopping until her nose was just inches from Mr. Tollman’s. He jerked back, surprised at her for a moment, before he sneered. Anger burned Gretchen so hot that she felt as if she might spontaneously combust. “Mr. Tollman,” she whispered, “you may have won this, but if you hurt your daughter again, you will regret it. You might as well take a gun and put a bullet in your head.”
“Gretchen!” Mrs. Gardner clamped down on her arm and pulled her back. “What in the world are you doing?”
Mr. Tollman stumbled back into the wall—his daughter hanging loosely in his arms, his eyes locked on Gretchen’s.
“Nothing,” Gretchen answered. “I’m not doing a thing.”
Gretchen turned away and strode purposely toward the exit.
