Chapter 4 - The Retaliation
Elena was right. The retaliation came faster than I expected, but not in the way I anticipated.
It was Tuesday afternoon. I had kept Leo, Chloe, and Ethan home from school, setting them up with board games and movies in the living room while I worked from my home office. At 2:00 PM, the doorbell rang.
I looked through the peephole. It wasn't Greg. It was a woman in a sharp blazer holding a clipboard, flanked by a police officer.
I opened the door, my heart pounding, but keeping my face perfectly neutral.
“Sarah Jenkins?” the woman asked. “I’m Agent Rollins with Child Protective Services. We received an anonymous tip regarding the welfare of a minor in this home, specifically Leo Jenkins.”
My jaw tightened. Vanessa. She had called CPS on me, trying to frame me as an unfit mother to distract from her own crimes.
“The report claims that Leo is being kept in an unsafe environment, that he is subjected to screaming and emotional distress, and that you are harboring two runaway teens,” Rollins stated, her eyes scanning the entryway.
“Please, come in,” I said smoothly, stepping aside.
I led them into the living room. The scene they walked into was the exact opposite of a crisis. Leo was sitting on the floor, patiently teaching Ethan how to build a complex Lego architecture set. Chloe was curled up on the sofa reading a book. The house smelled like the chocolate chip cookies we had baked an hour ago.
Rollins blinked, clearly taken aback by the peaceful domesticity.
“Hi,” Leo said, looking up. He didn't stutter this time. He felt safe here. “I’m Leo. A-are you here because Aunt Vanessa is mad we left the barbecue?”
The CPS worker looked at me, then at Leo. “Leo, do you feel safe here?”
“Yes,” Leo answered plainly. “It’s quiet here. At Aunt Vanessa’s house, Greg throws things. Here, Mom just throws out bad vibes.”
Rollins actually cracked a smile. She turned to me. “Ms. Jenkins, can we speak privately?”
In the kitchen, I handed Rollins the thick file Elena had helped me put together—the same file we submitted to the judge. The texts, the financial records of me paying for the kids' food, the photos of holes punched in Vanessa’s drywall that Chloe had secretly taken.
Rollins read through it, her professional demeanor shifting into deep concern. “The anonymous tipster claimed you were having a psychotic break.”
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“The anonymous tipster is my sister,” I replied. “She’s trying to punish me for protecting her kids. The judge granted emergency temporary custody to me an hour ago. The papers are being served to my sister right now.”
Rollins closed the folder. “Ms. Jenkins, I’m closing the investigation on you immediately. However, based on this evidence, I am formally opening a case against Vanessa and Greg.”
