Chapter 7
We got Mia to the state police barracks. They took her to a safe house, put a guard on her 24/7. Called Chloe, told her she was safe.
Chloe broke down on the phone. Cried so hard she could barely talk. Said she’d do anything we wanted. Testify against Jax. Tell the judge the truth. Whatever it took.
Detective Carter was happy. Ecstatic, even. She said with Mia safe, with Tuck’s phone, with Chloe’s testimony, they could take Jax down for good. Indict him on half a dozen charges—kidnapping, drug trafficking, conspiracy, the whole nine yards.
But the custody hearing was still Monday.
And Ms. Hale was still on Jax’s payroll. And the judge was still on Jax’s payroll. And even with Chloe ready to tell the truth, there was no guarantee they wouldn’t try to steal Wren anyway.
Boone didn’t sleep at all that weekend. He stayed at the hospital, by Wren’s bed, 24/7. He barely ate. Barely drank. Just sat there, watching her, his hand on her chest, like he was scared if he looked away for even a second, Jax would sneak in and take her.
I stayed with him. We didn’t talk much. We just sat there, together, holding hands, waiting for Monday.
Margaret went home to get some things. Came back Sunday night with a big envelope, her face tight.
She sat down next to us. Handed the envelope to Boone.
“Found this in Eli’s old room,” she said. Her voice was rough. “Tucked in the back of his yearbook. Forgot all about it.”
Boone opened the envelope. Pulled out a stack of papers. Letters. Handwritten. Elijah’s handwriting.
He read the first one. His face went white.
“What is it?” I asked.
Boone handed it to me. I read it. My stomach dropped.
It was a letter from Elijah to Boone, written two weeks before he died.
Boone,
I’m sorry. I messed up bad. I got hooked on pills after the IED hit my convoy last year. The docs gave ‘em to me for the pain, and I couldn’t stop. Then I moved to heroin. Jax got me hooked. Said he’d kill Mom if I told anyone. Said he’d kill you too.
I owe him fifty grand. I don’t have it. I’m gonna turn myself in when I get home. Go to rehab. Tell the cops everything. I don’t care if I go to prison. I just wanna keep you and Mom safe. And Chloe. She told me she’s pregnant, Boone. A girl. We’re gonna name her Wren. I wanna be there for her. I wanna be better. For her.
If I don’t make it home, you have to take care of them. Chloe and Wren. They’re family. Don’t let Jax hurt ‘em. Don’t let Mom find out about any of this. She’s already been through enough with Dad leaving. She can’t handle this too.
I love you, big brother. I’m sorry I was such a fuckup.
— Eli
I looked up at Margaret. She was crying, quiet, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.
“I knew,” she whispered. “I knew something was wrong. When he was home on leave, he was so jumpy. Lost so much weight. Locked himself in the bathroom for hours. I didn’t ask. I was scared. Scared of what I’d find. Scared I’d lose him all over again.”
She covered her face with her hands. “It’s my fault. If I’d said something. If I’d gotten him help. None of this would be happening. Wren wouldn’t be fighting for her life. You wouldn’t be fighting for yours. It’s all my fault.”
Boone put his arm around her. Pulled her close. “No, Mom. It’s not. It’s Jax’s fault. It’s Eli’s fault for making the choices he did. But it’s never yours. You did the best you could. You always do.”
He looked at me. His eyes were red, but steady. Resolved.
“Tomorrow,” he said. “We end this. Once and for all.”
Monday came. Cold, gray, rainy. The kind of day that feels like bad news before it even happens.
We got to the courthouse early. Chloe was there, with her public defender, clean, nervous, her hands twisting in her lap. Detective Carter was there too, in plain clothes, sitting in the back of the courtroom, ready to arrest Ms. Hale and the judge the second the hearing was over.
The bailiff called the case. In the matter of Wren Renee Parker, a minor.
We walked into the courtroom. My heart was hammering so hard I thought it would jump out of my chest.
The judge walked in. Judge Hale. No relation to Ms. Hale, but just as corrupt, according to Tuck’s phone. He was old, fat, jowly, didn’t even look at us as he sat down.
Ms. Hale walked in next. The social worker. She smiled at the judge. Nodded at Chloe. Didn’t even glance at Boone or Margaret or me.
The hearing started.
Chloe’s lawyer went first. Stood up, put on his best sad, sympathetic face. Told the judge Chloe was a changed woman. Clean, in rehab, ready to be a mom. Told her how Boone had intimidated her, threatened her, kept her from her own child. Told the judge that Wren belonged with her mother.
Chloe testified. She stood up, walked to the stand, her legs shaking. She put her hand on the bible.
And then she looked at the judge. Looked at Ms. Hale. Looked straight at Boone.
And she told the truth.
Every single word of it.
She told him about Jax. About the drugs. About how Elijah had gotten her hooked. About how Jax had threatened to kill her if she didn’t pay the debt. About how she’d left Wren at the hospital to keep her safe. About how Jax had kidnapped Mia, her little sister, and forced her to lie. About how Mia was safe now. About how she knew she wasn’t a good mom. About how she knew she couldn’t give Wren the life she deserved.
“Wren belongs with Boone,” she said, her voice breaking. “And Margaret. And Lila. They love her. They’ve taken care of her. They’ve been there for her when I couldn’t. When I was too sick, too scared, too selfish to be a mom. I’m giving up all my rights. All of them. I just want her to be safe. I just want her to be happy.”
She sat down. Cried into her hands.
The courtroom was silent.
The judge’s face was red. Ms. Hale’s face was white. She stood up, fast, her chair scraping the floor.
“Your Honor,” she said, her voice sharp. “This is ridiculous. Ms. Parker is clearly confused. She’s been coerced by the Mercers. They—”
Detective Carter stood up in the back. Held up her badge.
“Ms. Hale,” she said, loud and clear. “You’re under arrest. Conspiracy to commit kidnapping. Racketeering. Bribery. You have the right to remain silent…”
Two uniformed state cops walked down the aisle. Cuffed Ms. Hale. Led her out, screaming, kicking, her heels clicking on the marble floor.
The judge stood up, fast, his face purple. “What is the meaning of this? You can’t—”
“Judge Hale,” Detective Carter said. “You’re next. We have your texts. All the bribes you took from Jax Rook. All the kids you took from good families and gave to his people. Cuff him.”
The cops cuffed the judge too. Led him out. The whole courtroom was in chaos. People yelling, cameras flashing, bailiffs running around.
A new judge was brought in. An older woman, from out of town, no ties to Jax, no ties to anyone. She looked through all the evidence. Tuck’s phone. Chloe’s testimony. My letter. Wren’s charts. The police reports.
She didn’t take long.
“Based on the evidence presented,” she said, her voice clear and firm, “it is the decision of this court that full, permanent, legal custody of Wren Renee Parker is awarded to Boone James Mercer. The biological mother, Chloe Marie Parker, has voluntarily and permanently terminated all parental rights. This order is effective immediately.”
She banged the gavel.
It was over.
Boone collapsed into his chair. Put his head in his hands and sobbed. Big, heaving sobs, the kind he’d been holding in for a year and a half. Margaret cried with him, holding him tight. Chloe cried in the front row, happy and sad all at once. I cried too, happy tears, hot and fast, running down my cheeks.
We did it.
Wren was ours.
Forever.
We walked out of the courthouse into the rain. It didn’t feel cold anymore. It felt like a fresh start.
Boone’s phone rang. He answered it. It was the hospital.
His face went white.
“What?” he said. His voice cracked. “When?… Is she okay?… We’re on our way.”
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He hung up. Stared at us. His hands were shaking so bad the phone almost fell.
“It’s Wren,” he said. “She stopped breathing. They’re coding her. We have to go. Now.”
