The Call That Changed Everything
Emily stood by the window, peering into the dark silhouette of the garden.
“The streetlights are out again. It’s already ten, and Sophies still not home. If only she knew how worried I am. Shes only fourteen. Yet she manipulates her father like a grown woman, and he believes every word she says, giving her money whenever she asks.”
The gate slammed, and familiar footsteps echoed through the archway. “Sophie,” Emily thought, jumping back from the windowGod forbid her daughter saw her spying, or thered be hell to pay.
“Mum, Im home!” Sophie shouted from the doorway.
“Anything to eat?”
“Not even a hello?” Emily moved to kiss her daughters cheek, but Sophie dodged, darting into her room.
“Im starving! And I dont have time for this!”
“Where on earth are you rushing off to at this hour? Its ten oclock,” Emily said, bracing herself for another row.
“Here we go again,” Sophie muttered just loud enough to be heard. “Im nearly fifteen, Mum. Im not a child!”
She began hurling clothes from the wardrobe, searching for the right dress. Emily watched helplessly.
*Where are the right words? How do I stop her?*
“Why are you just standing there like a statue?” Sophie snapped. “Im going clubbing with the girls. Its Halloweeneveryones celebrating! Why shouldnt I?”
She pulled out a dressshort, backless, trimmed with red ruffles.
“Sophie, where did you get *that*? Its indecent!”
“I dont care! I bought it on sale for Halloween. Dad gave me the cash.”
Sophie yanked out a pair of towering red stilettos.
“Brilliant, right?” She strutted past her mother, swaying her hips. “Toms going to lose his mind when he sees me.”
“Youre not going anywhere,” Emily said quietly.
Sophie whirled around. “*What?*”
“You heard me.”
“Since when do you get to tell me what to do? Look at youyoure a wreck! Dad left you, and no one else has bothered with you since!”
“Wreck,” she repeated, savouring the word.
Emily spun like a coiled spring, slapped her hard across the face, then stormed out, slamming the door behind her. Sophies shrieks followed.
“You *witch*! I *hate* you! Youll regret this!”
Emily ran the cold tap, splashed her face, then stared at her reflection. *Wreck. Ive got a good job, a cosy flat, Im not bad-looking. But with Sophie its like she became a stranger at twelve. Backchat, smoking, everythings a fight. The vicar said its pride. I believe him. The therapist gave advice, but nothing helps. Every day, we drift further apart. As if Im her enemy. If only she knew how much I love her. And now Ive hit her. What do I do?*
She listenedSophie was on the phone. *”Toms expecting me”*
*Tom. I remember him in primary schooltiny, bug-eyed. Now hes all grown up, handsome. No wonder the girls swoon. And he fancies Sophie. Who wouldnt? Shes gorgeous.*
Emily sighed, locked the front door, and hid the keys. *No clubbing tonight. Tom will survive. And Halloweenits all devilry anyway.*
She tried sneaking to her room, but Sophie burst into the hall.
“Ill *never* forgive you! Ill *sue* you!” she screamed, face twisted with hate. “Ill jump out the window if I have to! Toms *waiting* for me! I *promised*!”
“If he really loves you, hell wait as long as it takes.” Emily looked at her with pity. *My poor girl. How do I help you?*
“What are you staring at, you old cow?” Sophie shrieked. “Ill call Dadhell *drive* me to the club!”
“Go ahead,” Emily said. “But youre not leaving.”
Sophie went eerily still. “Fine. Youll regret this.”
Emily heard the shoes clatter, then Sophies hushed, gleeful phone calls.
*No need to go out. Halloweens come to us.* Emily wiped her tears, swallowed a sleeping pill. *Maybe tomorrow will be easier.*
***
The alarm blared. Shaking off sleep, Emily washed up and made breakfast. She wasnt one to hold grudges, and Sophie usually cooled off by morning.
Not today. Sophie marched past the table, stone-faced, grabbed her birth certificate, and left.
All day, Emily pushed thoughts of their fight asideuntil she left work. *Is Sophie all right? Has she forgiven me? Should I apologise? She doesnt know how much her words hurt. My hearts been bad lately. Well have tea, make up. Just hang on.*
Relieved, she stopped at the bakery for Sophies favourite éclairs.
“Love! I got your pastries! Truce?” she called, stepping inside.
Silence.
Strange.
Sophie wasnt home. The mornings sandwiches lay untouched.
*Better a bad peace than a good quarrel,* she thought, dialling Sophies number.
An unknown number rang first.
“Emily Whitmore?” A clipped female voice. “Valerie Hart. Social Services. Your daughter filed a complaint alleging abuse. Weve taken her into temporary custody.”
“*What?!*” Emily froze.
“Due to concerns for her welfare, shes at a youth shelter pending court proceedings.”
“*Court?!*”
“To terminate your parental rights.”
“*On what grounds?!*”
“You struck your child. Or have you forgotten?”
Emily gasped. “How *dare* you!”
“We *dare* when childrens rights are violated. See you in court.”
“*Where is she?!*” Emily screamedbut the line was dead.
***
Valerie visited Sophie that evening.
“Brought you something,” she said, placing a Snickers on the bedside table. “Compensation for emotional distress. Dont worryshell pay for this.”
Sophie picked at the wrapper. “Whatll happen to her?”
“Termination of rights.”
Sophie paled. “*Termination?*”
“You *did* file the complaint.”
“Of *course*!” Sophie jutted her chin. “She wouldnt let me go clubbing. Tom was waiting! And she called my dress *tacky*. Shes a *failure*thats why Dad left!”
Valerie said nothing. She, too, was aloneher husband had left her for a woman who could give him children.
“You can call your friends,” Valerie said, handing over her phone. “But Ill stay.”
Sophie dialled Tom first.
“Its me! Guess what? Im at a *youth shelter*! Yeah, Mum hit mewell, *slapped* me. So I rang Childline. Now shes in *trouble*!”
A pause. Then Sophies face fell.
“What do you mean, *traitor*?! I didnt *betray* anyone! I have *rights*! Fine, *youre* the traitor!”
She hung up, called a friend next.
“Meg! Its *amazing* here! Foods lush, got loads of new clothesoh, dont be *jealous*!”
She hesitated, suddenly wanting to call her mumbut Valerie returned.
“Sophie, darling, I must go.”
“Ta,” Sophie mumbled, handing the phone back. “Valerie I need my stuff from home. Clothes, schoolbooks. To see Mum.”
Valeries voice turned to steel. “*See* the woman who *hit* you? The *state* will provide everything*protection* included.” She leaned in. “Any neighbours whod testify against her? Shouting, drinking?”
Sophie bit her lip. “Mrs. Jenkins downstairs hates her. We flooded her flat once never paid for repairs.”
Valerie scribbled in her notebook and left.
***
Emily rang everyone she knewno one understood social services. A friend recommended a solicitor.
“Its serious,” he said wearily. “If witnesses back her claims, youll lose.”
“Ill *fight*!”
“Itll cost you.”
Desperate, she called Sophies father.
“You shouldnt have hit her,” he said coldly. “Or stopped her going out. *Tom* was there.”
“*Clubs serve alcohol!* And shes underage!”
“*Please*. They let anyone in with cashwhich *I* gave her.”
“*Help me*, then! I need money for a solicitor
