Loving You Differently

Twenty Five

Aria Adkins

I'm jolted awake by a deep voice rumbling out, "Aria."

My eyes flutter open to reveal Austin crouched down next to me, his hair rumpled from sleep, eyes tired, and concern etched across his features. I blink a few times, my eyes feeling filmy and dry. It takes me a minute to realize that I'm laying on the couch curled up on my side, facing the front door.

I forgot that I'd trekked from my bedroom to the living room after waking up from a nightmare at around 2 A.M. I remember carefully opening up Savannah's bedroom door to check that she was there and safe, and not long after I planted myself on the couch and apparently dozed off.

The sun timidly peeks out from the curtains that cover the window next to the front door, and from the way it's slow to make its appearance I have to assume it's only around six in the morning. Sav will be getting up for school within the next hour.

Austin's arm reaches out, his hand gently brushing a curtain of hair away from my face. "Come back to bed, baby."

My fists tightly clench the small throw blanket that barely covers my body. Tears prick my eyes, and I swallow harshly, trying to keep them at bay. You'd think I'd be all cried out after yesterday, but I guess not.

I shake my head, feeling small and powerless. Anxiety claws at my throat, permanently lodged there since Savannah broke down in the middle of the floor.

"I can't," I whisper shakily.

Austin's hand cups my cheek. I close my eyes as his thumb darts out, gently caressing my skin.

"No one's coming through this door and taking her from us," He rasps quietly.

I inhale sharply.

Before I can even blink, Austin is hooking both arms underneath my body and lifting me up. I open my mouth to protest, but before I can, he deftly turns his body to the side, taking my place on the couch and pulling me into his chest. A lone tear falls as he brings the throw blanket up to my chin and wraps both arms around me.

"Comfortable?" He asks quietly, kissing the back of my head.

I nod, too choked up to speak, but now no longer tired.

I stare blankly at the front door, my mind running a mile a minute. Child Protective Services opens at eight, and the first thing I'm doing after Savannah is on the school bus is marching my ass up there.

Realistically, I know that there's nothing I can do but wait, and that's the worst part about it all. The unknown, not knowing what will happen, not having any control over the situation. Hell, not even knowing when the hell a social worker will show up to do the dreaded home inspection.

The one and only time CPS showed up at our door, it felt like hours as the social worker inspected what felt like every inch of our home, even thought it probably hadn't been any longer than only sixty minutes. She held my sister and I's fate in the palm of her hand, and all we could do was sit and wait for her decision.

I don't blame Child Protective Services. I know that they're simply doing their jobs to ensure that children are being safely and correctly cared for. I blame my mother, and there's no doubt in my mind that she's the prime orchestrator in all of this. This situation has her name written all over it. All of it is so fucking terrifying, because I know that I'm more than well equipped to take care of Savannah. The only place she belongs is here, with me.