Marva whispered.
“I’m sorry, baby.” Marva’s family disowning her was his fault. He had so many wrongs to right. “Go see Dirty, I know she’ll help you.”
Marva shook her head.
“I had a visitor.” He grinned wide. It was easier to fake appearances. His old lady would follow his lead.
“Who? Your sister?” She smiled in return, and the expression made her look years younger, reminding him of happier times.
“Nope, a cop. Says he’s a friend of Indiana’s.” Kevin pushed the papers across the surface of the table. “He says Dirty is trying to get custody of the kids, but is having a hard time.”
“Have you talked to her?” She peered down at the sheets spread out.
“No, I haven’t seen her.” He exhaled. It had become his nightly prayer that his sister hadn’t given up on him, too. “The guy said Dirty was fighting to keep our babies out of the foster system. He left these.” Kevin tapped the sheets with his finger.
“What do they mean?” She glanced between him and the documents.
“It’s termination of parental rights, giving Dirty custody of Calista and Caivin.” Sadness piled on top of the guilt. He loved his kids, even if he didn’t show it the right way.
“I’m their mother. I don’t want to give our babies up.” Her thin lips formed a firm line.
“We can’t raise them.” The stark truth hurt to say out loud. He set a pen next to her hand. “Marva, we need to clean up before we can do anything. Dirty would never keep them from us.”
He told the policeman friend of his sister’s that he would call after he read and talked to his old lady about signing them. Watching her, though, another thought struck him. He would ask the cop to help get Marva into rehab. “Sweetheart, I want you to get some help.” There was no way the guy was trying to help Dirty out of the goodness of his heart. The officer wanted something from his sister and if that knowledge could help him, he would use it to get what he needed, too.
“Not without you.” She scooted back in her seat.
“It might be a year or more before I get out. You have to do this on your own now, baby girl.” He picked up the pen and signed his name to the dark line at the bottom of the paper. “I’m going to ask Dirty’s friend to see if he can help you.” He handed over the pen.
She peered over at him through fathomless brown eyes. “If you say so.” Marva picked up the pen and scribbled her name. “I don’t want their names changed.”
“You know my sister better than that,” he chided softly. “Marva, I need you to get out of Claudette’s house. Go to Dirty’s, and stay there until I can get you into someplace safe.”
“Indiana won’t let me stay there. Remember what she said the last time we lived with her. Never again because she can’t trust us.” Marva started rocking in place.
A chime buzzed announcing the end of visiting hours. Around them felons rose from their seats and started to file out the exit. Kevin rose. “She will, promise me you’ll go there.”
Marva wouldn’t look at him. “Okay.”
The warning bell dinged. He gathered the documents and rose. She was lying.
More emotions overwhelmed him. He knew if he didn’t get her off the streets, he might never see her again. “Okay, baby. I’m waiting to find out when I will be transferred to the penitentiary. When I know, I’ll call.”
“All right.” Marva didn’t lift her head.
He moved with a group toward the heavy steel door that led to the housing units. When he glanced over his shoulder, Marva was still sitting at the table.
When he got to his pod, he would make a few calls. One way or another, he was going to get Marva to his sister’s place until she could be placed in a rehabilitation facility.
****
The consistent ring of the doorbell shredded her already tense nerves. Indiana crossed the family room, and glanced up the stairs to make sure the kids were still in their rooms and—hopefully—in their