The Shelter Island Child Alliance stood out from all the rest. They gave children in foster care a voice, an advocate in the legal system, someone who would get to know them and speak to the judges in family court on their behalf. It seemed like something I was uniquely qualified for, knowing the legal system inside and out. I’d had to do a little brushing up on family law, but it had all been worth it. There was little in the past few years that had given me more joy.

Callie slid a folder out from under her perilous stack. “I’m glad because I’ve got your new assignment.”

My last pairing, a thirteen-year-old named José, had finally been able to go home with his aunt and uncle after a nasty custody dispute following his mother’s death. The boy had been so closed off, hesitant to tell anyone who he wanted to live with. Family members on both sides began attacking each other, trying to get custody of José. But after some time, it had all worked itself out.

“Who do you have for me?”

Callie handed me the folder. “This is Zoe Parks. Father unknown. Her mother just ended up in jail for the second time after being busted in a meth sting.”

I took in the little girl’s face. She couldn’t be more than eight years old, and even if her mother did get her act together, the chances of her regaining custody were slim. There was something almost familiar about Zoe. She reminded me of a little Kenna, I realized. Maybe it was the dark brown hair. Or perhaps it was the fact that I’d just learned a little more about Kenna’s history. Regardless, my chest constricted for the little girl who was now alone in the world. “Any family in the picture?”

Callie shook her head. “No one willing to step up.”

“Assholes.”

“Not everyone’s equipped for parenthood, Crosby.”

Callie was right about that. My parents had been cold and removed on their best days. As if they’d had a child simply to mark that item off their to-do lists. Their involvement in my life growing up and into adulthood had mostly been about them trying to steer me into what they thought was appropriate. But I’d been safe and never wanted for anything. So many of the children I’d met through the Alliance would’ve given anything for that.

I flipped the file closed. “When do I meet her?”

“We want to give her the weekend to settle into her foster home, get used to a new routine. There have been a lot of folks asking her lots of questions. How about Monday?”

“Sounds like a plan.” I eyed Callie across the desk. “You’ll let me know if there’s anything else I can do to help?”

“Yes. Now, get out of here. I need to get some work done.”