“No, you don’t understand! She’s in danger!”
He nodded at me, smiling.
“You’re daughters fine. She’s in the foster care system.”
That little bit of information didn’t calm my nerves at all. At least when she was with me, I knew what could happen to her and could try to protect her. The foster parents would not know that we had been threatened, nor by who. The guard walked away and left me crying on the stone floor. Days passed with me just sitting on the floor, silent tears streaming down my face. On the ninth day since I had been arrested, the guard came and unlocked the cell door.
“Good news, sweetheart. The attempted victim chose not to press charges. So that means you’re free.” He motioned for me to come out of the cell.
“There’s someone upstairs waiting to pick you up. It’s a Mr. John Watson.”
I ran blindly up to the first floor, not waiting for the officer, only thinking of my daughter and her safety. When I reached the top of the staircase, I stopped dead in my tracks. Instead of John, Sherlock was waiting by the front desk. I raced towards him, throwing myself into his arms. He wrapped his arms around me for a second, and then released me.
“I should get you home. I have to get to work today.”
My zealousness turned to grief as I realized he was only here to take me back to my apartment.
“Right. Because work is more important.” I stalked out the door and got into the waiting taxi outside. Sherlock got in next to me and the taxi driver pulled away from the station. I stared out the window the whole ride, sitting as far away from Sherlock as I could. As soon as the driver pulled up next to my flat, I got out and shut the door a little harder than necessary. I stumbled into my bedroom, and lay down. It had been so long since I’d slept on an actual bed. It felt heavenly. I must have fallen asleep, because I had a dream where I was having dinner with Sherlock and he all of a sudden morphed into Moriarty. When I woke up, I was soaked with sweat and breathing heavily. I got up and went out to make a cup of tea to calm my nerves when I realized; my daughter was still I the foster care system. I decided that first thing in the morning, I would go to the adoption agency to see if I could regain custody of Catherine. It seemed to take forever for eight o’clock to come, but when it did come, I was all dressed and ready to go. I had called a taxi ahead of time to pick me up just to make sure I had a ride. When I got to the agency, the receptionist was playing solitaire.
“Hello, I’m Elizabeth Cumberbatch. My daughter was put in the foster system after some…complications. I would like to know when she can come back to live with me?”
The lady looked over her thick-rimmed glasses at me.
“What did you say your name was?”
“Elizabeth. Elizabeth Cumberbatch.”
