Part of me wants to fling my arms open and run to him, yelling Daddy like I’m five years old. But the anger, still seeping out beneath my skin, won’t let me.

He walks toward me and wraps his arms around me. And now he’s holding me for the first time I can remember. It’s weird, I know he’s trying to give me love. Love that I need. Shit, love that I’ve been wanting my whole life. But I can’t feel anything.

CARLI

Judge Reed’s chambers are creeping me out with all the dead animals. Beside her desk there’s some kind of wild cat with a bird stuffed in its mouth. On the floor, in front of a wall of legal books, there’s a ram’s skull and horns surrounded by large bones. By the window there are two wolves on posts, heads up, like they’re howling at the moon. And on the opposite wall—above the giant map of Texas—there’s a duck with its wings spread, trying to fly away from it all.

Maybe a sign that I should try to get the hell out of here, too. But how?

The judge is leaning on her large mahogany desk, short legs stretched to the floor, holding a pen and legal pad. On almost every finger, she has some kind of expensive-looking ring. She’s wearing dark jeans, cowboy boots, a light pink blouse, and a string of pearls underneath her black robe.

She’s staring at me, wanting to know why I want to stay with Mom. I’m sitting in the leather armchair across from her trying to think of what to say. I’m not about to tell this judge about Shannon. Nuh-uh. I already know what she would write on her legal pad: Black man had a baby by his sidepiece. I mean, she probably wouldn’t use sidepiece, but you know what I mean. Even though I hate him, I’m not about to let this little white lady reduce him to that.

“I’m just closer to my mom. She gets me,” I finally answer.

“Can you elaborate, sweetie?” she asks, in her country (and when I say country, I mean country) voice.

I tell her about basketball and explain Mom is the only one I can talk to.

Judge Reed bites the inside of her left rouged cheek. “Are there other reasons? Besides basketball? It’s really important you tell me all the reasons you want to live with your mom. It’ll help me make a decision based on what I think is in your best interest.”

“But I’m already telling you what’s in my best interest,” I say with more attitude than I want to.