Chapter 3 - The Unregistered Angels
By noon the following day, Julian returned to my private hospital suite. He held a leather-bound folder in his hands, his face unusually grim.
"Did you find them?" I asked, sitting up in bed with an adjustable tray table in front of me.
"I reviewed the footage from the city park cameras, Ethan," Julian said, laying three printed high-definition still photos on my bed.
I grabbed the photos with trembling fingers.
There they were.
The camera mounted on a nearby light pole had captured the entire sequence. Two tiny girls in faded cotton dresses and oversized sneakers walking hand in hand. The image showed Lily dropping her oversized pink backpack onto the dirt path, grabbing Emma's hand, and screaming toward the crowded lawn.
A wave of profound emotion washed over me. Seeing the proof that my life hung on the courage of two forgotten five-year-olds sent a shiver through my chest.
"Who are they, Julian?" I asked. "Where do they live? I want to meet their parents."
Julian cleared his throat, leaning against the edge of my bed. "That’s where the situation gets complicated, Ethan. I ran facial recognition through state child welfare records, school enrollment databases, and local housing registries."
He paused, choosing his next words with extreme legal precision.
"They don't exist in any system."
I stared at him. "What do you mean they don't exist? They're five years old!"
"They aren't enrolled in any Chicago public or private school," Julian explained. "They have no registered medical insurance records, and their faces didn't match any state birth registry within Illinois or Indiana. However, my private investigator followed their foot path back through the park cameras."
Julian pulled out a fourth photograph. It showed the two little girls holding hands with a young woman in a worn wool coat outside a dilapidated, brick shelter three miles south of the park.
"Her name is Sarah Miller," Julian said softly. "She's twenty-six years old. She lives in a temporary transitional shelter in the industrial district. And according to my sources... she is currently facing an eviction order and a custody hearing."
"A custody hearing?" I snapped. "Why?"
"Because she's destitute, Ethan," Julian said simply. "Child Protective Services opened a file on her six weeks ago. The state alleges she cannot provide adequate shelter, nutrition, or medical care for the girls. The court hearing is scheduled for tomorrow morning at nine o'clock. If she loses, the twins will be placed in separate state foster homes."
I looked down at the photograph of the little girl who had dropped her pink backpack to scream for my life.
Separate foster homes.
Destroyed by a cold, bureaucratic machine because their mother didn't have enough pieces of paper with green ink on them.
I pulled the heart monitor leads off my chest.
"Ethan! What are you doing?!" Julian yelled, stepping forward to stop me. "You had a massive heart attack thirty-six hours ago! The doctor said—"
"I don't care what the doctor said," I tore the IV line from the back of my hand, ignoring the sudden bead of blood that formed on my skin. "Call my driver. Tell him to bring my suit."
May you like
"To go where?!"
"To child court, Julian," I said, standing up on shaky legs, gripping the edge of the nightstand until my knuckles turned white. "Two little girls gave me my life back. I am not going to let the state tear theirs apart."
