Chapter 35

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"Iris! Kitchen, now!" I heard my mom shout from downstairs. I looked over at Mikey with wide eyes.

"What did you do?" Mikey asked me with a cross expression. I threw an eraser at him, causing a giggle to escape his small lips.

"Nothing as far as I remember," I stated and set my textbook aside. "Coming, Mom!" Cinder and Muffin were in the room, so they couldn't have done anything to anger her. "I don't know how long this will take so go home for now." I pecked his lips. We walked down together. I lead him out the door. I waited until he was inside his house before heading to the kitchen where my mom was. I walked slower when I neared the kitchen, noticing she wasn't alone.

"Iris. This is Justine Hardwood. She is here to talk about some things with us," my mom said calmly, pointing at the older woman.

"I would like to speak with Iris alone, Jennifer," the formal looking lady declared. She was wearing a sharp, proper black suit. My mom sighed and left the room. "Iris. I am Justine, as your mom said. We met many years ago."

"You were the one who handled my kidnapping case," I remembered. "So I'm assuming you're here to talk about my assault from April."

"I am. Are you busy right now?"

"Well I was studying for my finals in two weeks, but I think I can take a break," I sighed out and took a seat in front of her. "What do you need to know?"

"Could you replay the events that happened before your assault?" So I did. I explained what happened from when I left the school, the rain, the hit to the back of my head, the beating, and his message. "Brown haired man with a southern accent?"

"That's all I could remember. He wasn't that tall. Maybe a few inches taller than me." She pulled a folder out from her briefcase. She grabbed a photo and handed it to me.

"Could this be the man?" she asked. I studied the picture carefully. He certainly had the brown hair. But I can't remember exactly if it was the man who attacked me.

"I'm not sure. I'll have to see him in person to clarify," I responded while shaking my head.

"The man's name is Carl Gomez from Louisiana. He used to work for your stepdad before they got in a fight over a shipment of drugs," she explained. "We have him under custody after seeing him handle some drug deals around town." I nodded, not exactly sure what to say. "I'm not sure if your mom would agree on letting you see him in person, but I'll try if this is the way you can identify him." She placed the picture back in the folder. She folded her arms and looked intensely at me. "How is your living situation here?"

"Excuse me?" I asked with a perplexed expression.

"Your mom didn't call you down here nicely. How does she treat you?" She reached out and touched my arm. "You can tell me anything. No one else will find out. Are you being abused?"

"No, I am not," I said and snatched my arm away. "And if you think that was her being rude to me, then you should see how people call me in school. My mom is the kindest person in the world. She has never harmed me nor punished me physically. She takes care of me. I have a happy life here." I tried to contain my anger.

"How do you feel about your stepfather?"

"He can go to hell for all I care. I don't want anything to do with him."

"Well, I'm afraid you're not going to have much of an option," she started.

"What do you mean?"

"Since March your mother has been fighting to keep custody over you and your brother. The court has decided to let your stepfather have custody again." I stood up from my seat and slammed my hands against the table. She jumped from my sudden actions.

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