Chapter 2 - Three Times Nobody Listened
I put the fork down and took his hand in both of mine.
"Eli. Whatever this is, just say it."
He dragged his sleeve across his eyes. Then it came out of him in one flat rush.
"The last family that sent me back — I didn't leave because I was difficult. I left because I figured out what the father was doing to their youngest boy. I told a teacher. She didn't believe me. So the family called me a liar and shipped me back here."
The kitchen went dead still.
"Did anyone ever look into it?" I asked.
He shook his head. "The caseworker said I had a history of stirring things up. Said I'd done it before — made up stories to get attention." He swallowed hard. "But I never did, Mom. I never made up a single word of any of it."
My chest went tight.
"Eli — how many times did you report something and get sent back for it?"
He held my eyes for a long moment.
"Three."
I stood up from the table. My hands weren't steady.
Because I knew the name of the caseworker he'd just said out loud. She still worked at that agency. She was the same woman who had put Eli's file in my hands and told me he was lucky to have me.
May you like
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What really happened inside those three homes — and why did the same caseworker keep burying every report Eli made?
