She was a compact woman in her early sixties, with iron-gray hair, rectangular glasses, and a navy coat that looked expensive without being fashionable. She carried a leather briefcase and the expression of someone who had spent decades listening to people explain why rules should not apply to them.
When she saw Vincent, she stopped beside the booth.
“You're Vincent Maddox?”
“Depends who's asking.”
“Margaret Collins. I'm the lawyer you called.”
“Sit down.”
She did, placing her briefcase on the table.
“I understand you have a family case you'd like me to examine.”
“I have two grandparents who haven't seen their granddaughter in six weeks.”
“That's an unfortunate situation. It isn't necessarily an unlawful one.”
“That's why you're here.”
Margaret studied him for a moment.
“You understand that child welfare cases are complicated. The state doesn't remove a child from one placement simply because somebody with money and influence wants it.”
“I'm not asking you to remove anybody.”
“Good. Because I wouldn't agree to that without evidence.”
Vincent nodded toward the opposite booth.
Walter and Evelyn sat together over breakfast, dressed in their best clothes. Walter had shaved carefully, and Evelyn wore a blue cardigan she had kept folded in a drawer for special occasions.
They looked exhausted.
They also looked frightened.
Margaret's expression softened when she saw them.
“Mr. and Mrs. Harper?”
Walter stood.
“Yes, ma'am.”
“Please sit down. I'm Margaret Collins. Vincent asked me to look into your situation.”
She opened her briefcase and took out a notebook.
“I'm going to ask some difficult questions. I need you to answer honestly, even if the answers make you uncomfortable. Is that clear?”
“Yes.”
“Did either of you ever have a criminal conviction?”
“No,” Walter replied.
“Any history of substance abuse?”
“No.”
“Domestic violence?”
Walter looked almost offended.
“No.”
“Have either of you ever been investigated for child abuse or neglect?”
“No,” Evelyn said. “We raised Emily. She had a good childhood.”
“Do you have a permanent address?”
The couple exchanged a glance.
“Not at the moment,” Walter admitted.
Margaret made a note.
“How long have you been without stable housing?”
“Three weeks.”
“Before that?”
“We rented an apartment for almost thirty years. We lost it after the landlord sold the building and we fell behind on payments.”
“Do you have income?”
“I receive Social Security. Walter has a small pension and does repair work when he can,” Evelyn said.
Margaret continued asking questions.
She wanted to know about their medical conditions, their relationship with Emily, their relationship with Rosie, the child's routines, their ability to provide supervision, and whether they understood the financial and emotional demands of raising a seven-year-old.
Walter answered everything.
He described Rosie's favorite breakfast, her fear of thunderstorms, the stories she liked to hear before bed, and the way she insisted on wearing mismatched socks because she believed they made her run faster.
Evelyn explained how they had helped Emily care for Rosie during her illness. They had attended school meetings, taken Rosie to appointments, and cared for her overnight whenever Emily needed treatment.
“Did Rosie ever live with you for an extended period?” Margaret asked.
“For almost four months,” Walter replied. “When Emily was receiving treatment, Rosie stayed with us most nights.”
“Was there ever a problem?”
“No.”
“Did anyone express concerns about your care?”
“No.”
Margaret wrote something down.
“Do you have records of the time Rosie spent with you?”
“Photographs. School messages. Some medical paperwork. We kept everything we could.”
“Good. We'll need copies.”
She closed the notebook.
“Now I want to explain something. The fact that you're Rosie's grandparents doesn't automatically give you custody. However, your established relationship with her may be relevant to the court's assessment of her best interests. We need to determine why contact was suspended, what the department's records say, and whether the current placement is appropriate.”
Walter nodded slowly.
“Can you get us a visit?”
“I can request one. I can't promise the department will agree.”
“How long will it take?”
“I don't know.”
The answer visibly disappointed him.
Margaret noticed.
“I won't lie to you, Mr. Harper. I can move quickly, but I can't control the court's schedule or guarantee an outcome. What I can do is make sure your case is presented properly.”
Walter lowered his eyes.
“That's more than we've had.”
Margaret looked at Vincent.
“Are you paying my retainer?”
“Yes.”
“Then understand something else. My client will be the Harpers. Not you. I won't use threats, intimidation, or your reputation to influence a child welfare decision.”
“Fine.”
“If the evidence shows that Rosie is safe and thriving where she is, we will take that into account.”
“Fine.”
“And if the grandparents have made mistakes, we'll address them honestly.”
Vincent leaned forward.
“Margaret, I don't need you to tell me what I want to hear. I need you to find out what happened.”
For the first time, she smiled.
“Now we're getting somewhere.”
She asked Walter to sign the necessary authorization forms and arranged to collect copies of the letters from the department. Then she called her office and instructed her assistant to request the case records through the appropriate channels.
When the meeting ended, she gathered her papers.
“One more question,” she said to Evelyn. “Why do you think the department stopped the visits?”
Evelyn looked at Walter.
“I don't know.”
“Did Rosie ever say she didn't want to see you?”
The old woman shook her head.
“No. The last time we saw her, she was crying because she didn't want us to leave.”
Margaret paused.
“Did the caseworker witness that?”
“Yes.”
“Did she explain the suspension at the time?”