Where Is My Daughter?

The Perfect Family

He had to raise his voice to make it audible above my cursing. The blood burned through my veins like boiling hatred. If I could have killed him with my words, I would have. Instead, he stood there, letting me carry on for a few minutes, before finally raising his voice above mine and speaking.

"I don't think they should have revoked your parenting license."

What was that supposed to mean? How could this man stand here and say that to me? How could he tell me such a thing after denying my right to have my daughter? How was he allowed in this room to torment me and lie to me after the trauma he had just put me through?

"What are you talking about?" I spat out at him, "You're the dipshit that recommended they take her away! You're the one who decided to revoke my license!"

Agent Dorian shook his head solemnly and looked downtrodden, "No, we didn't." He took a deep breath and waited for a beat. When I said nothing but paused in my tirade, he pressed on.

"Agent Carson and I both recommended you be allowed to keep your license and raise your child. We had no reason to think otherwise. But the final decision isn't up to us. It's up to CCS. Usually, they agree with whatever we asses. Exclusively, actually. I've never had a decision that did not match my assessment. Neither has Carson. So we were shocked when the denial came back."

I was so confused. Vertigo hit me, and suddenly I was drowning, dizzy, and unable to focus my eyes. The room was spinning, and I tasted vomit in my mouth. I struggled to sit up with my restraints, trying to get up in time. I worried that I would get vomit in my hair as I slipped back into darkness.

When I woke up, Dorian was still there, sitting stoically in a chair across the room from me. He was typing away at a laptop that sat perched on his bent leg. His brow furrowed as he worked, indicating his concentration. Then the memories came flooding back to me.

I raised my hands to the front of my face. Finally, my hands and feet were free, and I could move them however I pleased. I wasn't restrained anymore. I had my freedom back, which granted me a moment of relief until I remembered everything that had happened in the past day. Then I looked at Agent Dorian, sitting there as a morbid reminder of how much my life had fallen apart. They had my baby, my daughter, and I needed to get her back.

I was hit again by another round of vertigo, and I felt my body start to dry heave. Focusing hard on my breathing, I closed my eyes and thought about my daughter. Her picture-perfect features. The slight curves of her hands. Just the thought of her brought me peace - just knowing she existed in the world.

Once the room sat still again, I blinked my eyes open, clearing the fogginess from my vision. Dorian stood up at the foot of my bed as if waiting for me was as natural as standing in line at the store. He was unfazed by my rough-edged appearance and the mess of sheets I had made. Someone had at least changed my gown and given me a fish set of blankets, so I didn't have to wake in my vomit.

"My apologies." Dorian said, his voice almost a whisper, "Perhaps I should have prepared you better before presenting my point of view. I didn't realize—"

"That you took away my child from me and then had the audacity to come in here and pretend as if you weren't the one who took her away?" I snipped, "What are you going to blame some ambiguous entity that somehow ignored your recommendation? Is that how your conscience is going to let you sleep tonight?"

Dorian cleared his throat, "I know this sounds strange. But I swear I am not trying to get myself off the hook or get you to trust me. I'm..." Dorian hesitated, looking down and to the left, studying the floor. He didn't seem confident where to go from there. What to say. But I knew nothing he said was going to make this situation better. Nothing was going to heal my brokenness.