“Tell me what I have to do to keep her. Tell me how I change your mind.”

“OK, firstly, this conversation should have happened months ago, with your original case officer. She assures me you were given all necessary support and advice. You told us repeatedly that you were complying with what she asked of you. Secondly, it’s not just my mind you have to change. My superiors get the final say on whether to petition the court and commence adoption proceedings. I can only recommend it to them.”

“So, if they take your recommendations, then you could recommend holding things back?”

With Lonnie, Spencer had known he had the situation under control by the end of their first meeting. But if the woman sitting opposite shot him down, he was fresh out of moves. It felt like drifting on an unfamiliar road, where the slightest twitch, omission, or overload could end things badly. Super-tuned senses scanned for signs of indecision. It didn’t help that there was something about her making him want to be a little more impressive than he suspected he was.

Caitlyn wondered how gently or firmly she should shoot him down. She was no longer swimming in time but she did have some residual guilt for not giving a damn about the guy’s past. And sometimes, when there was the possibility of an impending loss of custody, parents could get their act together.

She looked down at her paperwork. Formality was a shield for her. It stopped her from investing emotion in her work. She didn’t realize this was what stopped her from being a great case officer, as opposed to just a conscientious one.

“Mister Burnham, I appreciate—”

Spencer detected a hint of reluctance. So she was going to let him down gently.

“Look, Caitlyn. Do you mind if I call you Caitlyn?” He waited for her to acquiesce with a shrug. “Thank you. Caitlyn, I know you get all types in here. I know I was rude and disrespectful on our first meeting. My bad. But no one comes through these doors without shit going on in their lives. And I love my daughter—”

“Would you give consent for drug screening?”

“Would I . . . Sorry?”

“Would you leave a hair sample here, knowing I’m going to send it to the lab?”

Spencer’s mind was blank. Why hadn’t he planned this better? He thought about the new start in Toledo that had never happened and all the good intentions that had gone with it.

“I’ve been working on all that. These issues only became issues when my wife died. And I’ve got good money coming in.”

“On that, do you have bank statements, a tax return, bearing in mind we have you in our system as filed for bankruptcy?”