Chapter 3 - The Social Worker's Choice
The social worker, Sarah Vance, was a tall woman in her late forty with sharp grey hair pulled back into a tight bun. She wore a sensible navy blazer and carried a thick leather accordion folder under her arm.
She stepped into the examination room, her heels clicking smartly against the floor, and pulled the curtain completely shut behind her.
"Mrs. Miller," she began, sitting down in the chair Officer Ramirez had vacated.
"It's Chen," I corrected her flatly. "I kept my maiden name."
Sarah Vance barely blinked. She opened her folder, pulling out a sheaf of papers printed with official state letterheads. "Valerie, I've reviewed the preliminary police report, as well as the medical intake from your delivery three days ago at St. Jude's."
"And?"
"And there are significant red flags," she said, her voice smooth, neutral, and terrifyingly detached. "Your husband has filed an emergency petition for temporary custody, citing severe postpartum psychosis and physical assault. His mother, Evelyn Miller, has submitted a signed affidavit stating that you threw a heavy object at her son while holding the infant, endangering the child's safety."
"She's lying," I said, leaning forward. "Evelyn took my keys to trap me in that apartment. Mark dragged me out of the bathroom by my hair. Look at my face, Miss Vance! Look at my shoulder! Do these look like injuries I inflicted on myself?"
Sarah Vance looked at my swollen lip, then down at her papers. "Domestic disputes post-delivery are extremely complex, Valerie. High stress, sleep deprivation, and hormonal fluctuations can create volatile environments. Right now, both you and Mr. Miller are presenting conflicting narratives. However, Mr. Miller's mother offers a stable, three-bedroom home in Oakridge, with verified financial resources to care for the infant while this matter is investigated."
Oakridge. Evelyn’s suburban home, forty miles away, where I would have no car, no money, and no access to my son.
"Evelyn Miller worked for DSS for twenty years," I said, leaning in until I was inches from Sarah Vance's face. "Did she call you directly on your personal phone before you came to this hospital?"
Sarah’s eyes flicked sideways for a fraction of a second—a subtle, barely perceptible tell that confirmed everything I feared.
"My professional relationships are not relevant to this case, Mrs. Chen," Sarah said coldly.
"They are relevant if you're taking my newborn son based on a fraudulent affidavit written by a woman who helped cover up her son's violence!" I yelled.
Toby stirred in the bassinet, letting out a small, whimpering cry.
"You are demonstrating emotional instability, Valerie," Sarah Vance said, taking out a Parker pen and writing a note on her clipboard. "If you continue to elevate your voice in this facility, I will have security remove you from the room while we execute the temporary placement order."
My chest heaved. I wanted to scream. I wanted to grab her clipboard and tear it into confetti. But I saw the trap laying wide open in front of me. If I lost my temper, I proved her right. If I cried, I was hysterical. If I fought, I was dangerous.
I took a deep, shuddering breath, closed my eyes, and forced my muscles to relax.
When I opened my eyes, my voice was completely flat.
"I want my attorney present before you sign any placement order," I said.
Sarah Vance offered a patronizing, pitying smile. "It's 4:30 AM on a Saturday, Valerie. Public defenders aren't dispatched for emergency administrative hearings until 9:00 AM. By then, Toby will already be in Oakridge."
"I don't need a public defender," a deep, sharp voice spoke from the doorway.
The curtain was shoved aside.
Standing in the entrance was a tall woman in a dark gray wool coat, her silver hair cut into an asymmetrical bob. She held a leather briefcase in one hand and a stack of signed legal documents in the other.
May you like
It was Maya Lin—the most notorious family law attorney in the city, known as the "Iron Dragon" in the county court system.
"Miss Vance," Maya Lin said, stepping into the room with the force of a freight train. "You will put that pen down immediately, or I will file an emergency injunction against you personally for civil rights violations under Section 1983 before the sun comes up."
