**The Call That Changed Everything**
I stood by the window, peering into the dark outline of the garden. *The streetlights are out again. Its past ten, and Sophie still isnt home. If only she knew how worried I am. Shes only fourteen. And yet she manipulates her father like a grown womanhe believes every word she says, hands her money whenever she asks.*
The gate slammed shut, and familiar footsteps echoed through the archway. *Sophie.* Relief washed over me as I stepped back from the windowGod forbid she caught me watching, or thered be another row.
“Mum, Im home!” Sophie shouted from the doorway. “Got anything to eat?”
“Shouldnt you say hello first?” I moved to kiss her cheek, but she dodged me, darting into her room.
“Im starving! I dont have time for this!”
“And where exactly are you rushing off to at this hour? Its past ten.” My stomach tightened. Another argument was coming.
“Here we go again,” she muttered just loud enough for me to hear. “Im practically fifteenIm not a child!”
She yanked clothes from her wardrobe, tossing them onto the floor in search of *the* dress. I watched helplessly. *What can I say to stop her?*
“Why are you just standing there like a statue?” she screeched. “Im going clubbing with the girls. Its Halloweeneveryones celebrating. Am I supposed to sit at home like some loser?”
She found the dressshort, backless, trimmed with red ruffles.
“Sophie, where did you get that? Its vulgar. Do you know the kind of girls wear things like that?”
“I dont care! I bought it on sale for Halloween. Dad gave me the money.”
She pulled out a pair of towering red stilettos. “Perfect, right?” She posed in front of me, swaying her hips. “Josh is going to lose his mind when he sees me.”
“Youre not going,” I said quietly.
“What?!” She whipped around.
“You heard me.”
“Since when do you get a say? Look at yourselfa washed-up failure! Dad left you, and no ones bothered picking up the scraps since!”
*Failure.* She savoured the word.
Something inside me snapped. My hand flewa sharp, stinging slapbefore I stormed out, slamming the door behind me. A wail of fury followed.
“You *bitch*! I *hate* you! Youll regret this!”
I locked myself in the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face. My reflection stared back, bitter and weary. *A failure? I have a job I love, a cosy flat, and Im not exactly hideous. But Sophie ever since she turned twelve, its like shes a stranger. Backchat, sneaking cigarettes, twisting every word I say. The vicar says its pride. Maybe hes right. But what do I do? The therapists advice was useless. Every day, we drift further apartlike Im her enemy, not her mother. If only she knew how much I love her. How my heart aches for her. And now Ive hit her. What have I done?*
I cracked the door openSophie was on the phone, voice sharp. *”Josh will be there I promised him”*
*Josh. I remember him in primary schoolsmall, wide-eyed, like a tadpole. Now hes tall, handsome. No wonder half the girls fancy him. And hes friends with my Sophie. Of course he likes her. Who wouldnt? Shes beautiful.*
I sighed, double-locked the front door, and hid the keys. *No clubbing tonight. Josh will survive. And Halloweenall that nonsense about spirits and ghosts. Not for my girl.*
I tiptoed toward my room, but Sophie heard me. She flew into the hallway, face twisted with hate.
“Ill *never* forgive you! Ill *sue* you! Ill jump out the window if I have tobut I *am* leaving! You dont understand *love*! Hes *waiting* for me!”
“If Josh truly loves you, hell wait as long as it takes.” I looked at hermy little girl, so lost. *How do I help you?*
“Stop staring, you cow!” she shrieked. “Im calling Dadhell take me himself!”
“Go ahead,” I said. “But youre not leaving this house tonight. The doors locked.”
Her face went eerily calm. “Fine. Youll regret this.”
I heard her kick off her heels, then another hushed phone call. Sinister laughter followed.
*No need to go out. Halloweens come to us.* I wiped my tears, swallowed a sleeping pill. *Maybe tomorrow will be better.*
—
The alarm blared. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, washed up, and started breakfast. Long grudges werent my styleand Sophie was quick to forgive. Usually, our fights ended over morning coffee.
Not this time.
She marched past the table, stone-faced, grabbed her birth certificate, and left.
All day, I pushed thoughts of our fight aside. But leaving work, it was all I could think about. *How is Sophie? Has she forgiven me? What do I say? Should I apologise for hitting her? If only she knew how her words cut. How my heart hurts. The last ECG wasnt good. But tonight, well have tea and biscuits. Well make up. Just hang on.*
I stopped at the bakery, buying her favourite éclairs.
“Sophie! I got your treats! Truce?” No answer. The kitchen was empty. The sandwiches Id made that morning sat untouched.
*Better a bad peace than a good quarrel.* I dialled her numberbut my phone rang first. An unknown number.
“Mrs. Emily Carter?” A womans voice, cold and clipped. “Valerie Harper. Social Services. Your daughter has filed a complaint of abuse. Weve removed her from school for her safety.”
“What?!” My throat closed.
“Shes in temporary care pending a court hearing.”
“What court?!”
“To terminate your parental rights.”
“You canton what grounds?!”
“You struck your child. Or have you forgotten? Are you sober?”
“How *dare* you!” My chest tightened.
“We dare. You violated her rights. We protect children from mothers like you. See you in court.”
“Where is she? Tell me!” The line went dead.
—
Valerie Harper arrived at the care home that evening. She knocked on Sophies door.
“Come in!” Sophie lounged on the bed, binge-watching dramas.
Valerie set down a Snickers. “For your suffering. But dont worryshell pay. People who hurt children always do.”
“What happens to them?” Sophie muted the TV.
“They lose their kids.”
Sophie faltered. “Theres really a court case?”
“Of course. You signed the complaint. Was any of it untrue?”
“No! She *hit* me! Locked me in! Called my dress trash! And shes a *failure*thats why Dad left!”
Valerie said nothing. Her own husband had leftfor a woman who could give him children.
—
Sophie spent a week in care. The food was good, the rules laxbut boredom set in. Each morning, a car took her to a new school. Once, she spotted Mum leaving their flateyes red, shoulders slumped. Guilt prickled, but the memory of that slap smothered it.
Neighbours had testified against Mum. *”We heard screaming. Saw her stumblingclearly drunk.”* Sophie knew Mum stumbled from exhaustion, but stayed silent.
Josh stopped returning her calls. Then rang himself: *”If youd betray your mum, youd betray anyone.”*
At court, Mum swayedher heart seizing. *”Drunk, even here,”* a neighbour sneered.
Two hours later, it was over. The judge ruled: *”Terminate parental rights. Child support ordered.”*
Mum collapsed. The ambulance came too late.
—
Valerie visited Sophie that night, smug. “Youll move to a childrens home. Maybe get adopted.”
“I dont *want* that! I want *Mum*!”
“You *signed* the complaint.”
“I just wanted to scare her!”
“You scared her to death.”
Sophies world shattered.
Valerie left, unmoved. *I did my job. If her heart was weak, she shouldnt have argued.*
A crash. Shattered glass. Sophie landed on the snowa red stain on white.
—
She survived, but never walked again.
Her father tried to take her in, but his new wife refused.
Sophie went to a care home. The bank sued herMums debt for the lawyer now hers.
Josh
