Her finger was up and waving now. Her head bobbed back and forth on her neck as she spoke. To me, she looked like some kind of avenging superhero. “And Lela’s not saying another word to you without a lawyer. I know the rules, so with all due respect, don’t think you can come in here and mess around with us, sir.”

“The Department of Children, Youth and Families has custody of Lela, Diane, not you.” But Nancy had picked up her purse, and the detective had gotten to his feet.

Diane nodded. “I’m well aware of that. So you get her social worker on the line, and you tell them that the police are trying to violate this young lady’s civil rights.”

“Ms. Jeffries.” Detective DiNapoli was almost at the door, looking a little shaken. “Apologies for any inconvenience. We’ll arrange to talk with Lela at a different time.”

Diane’s finger was still waving. “You do that.” She pointed at Nancy. “And you arrange for a lawyer if that’s what’s going to happen. She’s no throwaway, so don’t you treat her like one.” Her outrage shook her usual honey voice.

I watched, stunned, as Nancy and DiNapoli retreated, probably planning to regroup and form a strategy for their counterattack. As soon as they pulled out of the drive, Diane sank into the chair across from mine. It squeaked under her weight. “I’m sorry, baby. I should have asked more questions before you even got home.”

“Thank you.” I leaned across the table and took her hand. Her eyes grew wide as I squeezed her fingers. “I didn’t do anything to either of those guys, Diane, I swear.”

She looked up at me and gave me a fierce return squeeze that might have cut off my circulation. “I know, baby. But even if you had, it would have been justified.” Her words were quiet but clear as crystal. “If someone ever tries to hurt or take advantage of you, you fight back, and don’t apologize for it. Don’t let them hurt you.”

I stared into her chocolate-brown eyes. I’d never talked about what had happened to me, had never admitted why I’d nearly beaten the life out of my foster father, Rick, who had been using me as his personal chew toy for months before I’d snapped. But I think Diane had figured it out a long time ago. “I’ll try. But this—what are they going to do?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. We’ll sort it out. I’m going to call your social worker before Nancy does.”

I wrapped my arms around myself. “Can I go to Malachi’s, please?” I needed to get back to work.

She pursed her lips. “Baby—”

“Please, Diane. I just—I need to see him.”