Chapter 7 A Call From School...And At Home

"Dahlia!" The loud, rusty voice called.

Knowing who it was, my heart skipped for a second but then I remembered my rent wasn't due until next two days.

So why was my landlady calling me? I went out to answer. "Yes, Mrs Gregory?"

"You have a call." She pointed to the telephone in her hand.

It was, undoubtedly, Haven's school. I'd begged Mrs Gregory to use her telephone so the school could get in touch with me in case of emergencies. It was part of their requirement before Haven was allowed to register into the school.

"Hello." I put the phone to my ear, wondering what had happened.

"Hello, Miss Harold. Haven is not feeling too well. You need to come immediately." The teacher sounded quite urgent.

I didn't argue. Though my nerves bounced around my insides. I was still looking for a job, her afternoon meal was yet to be prepared. Even the cheapest ingredients seemed expensive.

My only remaining job as a cleaner usually managed to cover water and light bills. And even if I wanted to use it for food, they wouldn't pay me.

I'd ask for too many advance payments that the last time I'd asked, the local hotel manager had warned me against future advance payments or risk losing my job.

Haven not feeling well was just another travail thrown my way, I worried.

Thirty minutes later, I was nearing Haven's class. I saw her teacher talking to a woman in powder blue suit.

I walked up to them. "Miss Caulkin, how's my daughter? Where's she?"

"Are you Haven Harold's mother?" The woman in a suit as stiff and neat as her donut bun coolly assessed me.

I nodded, a bit confused. "Who are you? Are you a nurse or..."

Something told me she wasn't in the medical field.

"I'm Christina Fallon, from social services. We have a report from Haven's teacher that she isn't being taken good care of and is constantly sick either from neglect or starvation."

My heart leapt to my throat. "What?!" I turned to face Haven's teacher. "What are you saying? Why would you even do this? My daughter is being fed well and she is far from being neglected. I'm not a bad mother."

The middle-aged woman was who Haven's teacher appeared unperturbed by my raised tone. "I see you struggle to take care of her. Haven is a bright girl, the genius of her class. She deserves an environment that'll help her grow and manifest her brilliance, Miss Harold. She needs parents who can take care of her."

I shook my head, fearing what was coming. "No! You had no right to call her! Haven is my daughter and I am doing my best to ensure she's well taken care of!" I turned to the social worker. "Please, don't listen to her. She's lying..."

"Has Haven's fees been paid?" The social worker asked me.

I swallowed, glancing dejectedly at her teacher. "No."

"Did you give her breakfast this morning?"

I nodded. "Yes. She ate."

"What did she have for breakfast?"

"Scrambled eggs, toast bread and a glass of juice." I lied.

"That's a lie, Miss Harold. I asked Haven and she said you gave her a slice of bread and water." The teacher interjected, her tone harsh and judgemental.

Tears fell. "I'm sorry, but that doesn't mean I'm not doing my best."

"You just lied, Miss Harold. This is making me doubt your ability to care for your child. Haven will be leaving with me."

"No!" I fell on my knees immediately. "Please, don't take her away. She's my reason for existing. Please, I beg of you. P-please, don't take my daughter away. I'll do better. Please." I cried, rubbing my palms together in a pleading gesture.

"Miss Harold, your child is sick and it's because she's hungry. Barely eaten. Look at yourself as well, you look thin and very pale. You can't take care of yourself, talk more another human. This is for the best." To the teacher, she directed. "Please bring out the girl."

"No...no...no...no. Please, I beg of y-you." I cried, holding the woman's hand. "Don't take my daughter from me, please. I promise to do better. Please."

After a while, the woman looked at me, feeling empathetic. "Do you have a job? A stable one?"

"I... I'm searching. But I promise, give me a month, I'll get one."

She helped me on my feet. "I'm a mother so whatever I'm going to say right now is out of sympathy than my duty. One week is all I can give you to find a steady paying job and I'll be coming to assess Haven's living condition. If you don't have a job by then and her living condition isn't as comfortable as it should be for any child, the system will have no choice but to take her."

"But..."

"No buts, Miss Harold. I'm also trying not to lose my job here plus I'm looking out for Haven. She deserves better than to starve." Christina Fallon decided. "Moreover, you look pretty young. Guess it's a case of teenage pregnancy. I'm not here to judge you but we see lots of girls your age, they end up letting us take their child because they know they can not provide them the stability and other necessary things a child needs to grow and become better."

My heart tore further. "No. I want my child. I...I can take care of her, I promise."

"Then one week. I'll be visiting your home to assess the environment and lifestyle Haven is exposed to. I'll get the address from the school management. Have a good day." She briskly walked out of there.

I rose to my feet, feeling dejected. How was I going to find a good job in a week? Where would I find a good home in just seven days? I couldn't even afford rent in our current apartment and if this social worker stepped feet into the environment, Haven was gone for good.

The smell of hemp would be the first thing to hit her nose once she stepped through the old, weak gate. Our home barely had furniture. The building was almost as old and as dilapidated as any ancient building due to lack of maintenance.

One of my neighbors was a hooker who didn't mind flaunting her bare body every evening, I didn't let Haven go outside whenever she was out and sampling but would the social worker care about that? No.

"Where's my daughter?" I wiped tears so Haven wouldn't see them.

"In the clinic." She replied.

Ten minutes later, I was taking Haven home after she was done eating - courtesy of her teacher who'd bought her meal from her pocket. I couldn't even be angry with the teacher at this point.

"Don't worry, mommy. Everything will be fine." Little Haven comforted on our way home.

I looked at her, caressing her small hand wrapped tightly around mine. A watery smile broke through. No, nothing was going to be fine but I didn't tell her that. "Yes baby. Everything will be fine."

I couldn't bear the thought of someone else raising my child. She was the reason I'd given up everything; the wealth, my education, the luxurious lifestyle and a chance at my dreams.

A damn good reason, one I didn't regret. But how could I keep the government from taking my daughter away in just one week?

"Your rent is due, Dahlia." Mrs Gregory's raspy voice reminded me the moment I entered the building.

"Not for another two days, Mrs. Gregory." I was this close to snapping.

"Just a reminder." She gave a casual shrug, making smoke rings in the air. A blunt nestled between her fingers.

"Did you get another job yet, mommy?" Haven inquired taking off her school bag.

"No, but don't worry. I'll try again tomorrow." I sat on the old, worn sofa I'd gotten from a really cheap yard sale three years ago, ignoring the rumble in my stomach.

While I wondered how to provide Haven's dinner, ruling out lunch as it was already past one and she'd just ate.

"Let's play Scrabble." She was already bringing out the board and bag of letter tiles.

"Okay." I'd bought the game for her.

She liked learning and playing word games. I'd bought it after she'd pleaded for it, saying she wanted to learn more words and have fun as well.

She was superbly smart and so I didn't need to worry if it was going to be a waste of my money. To be honest, it wasn't.

Two scores into the game, a knock sounded on my door.

"It must be Mrs. Gregory." Haven said, placing new letter tiles on her rack.

She rushed up to go get it before I could. I raised my head up...my eyes bulged in both disbelief and surprise. What was Zac Leroy doing in my house?

More importantly, how did he find here?