Page 30 of Cut Off
“Honestly, I don’t know exactly how it works.” I move to sit beside him on the bed, careful to leave space between us. “But I think... I think the people we love are always with us. Even when we can’t see them.”
He considers this, frowning. “But what if she’s looking for me and can’t find me because I’m not where I’m supposed to be?”
My throat tightens. “She’ll find you, Eli. Moms are pros at finding their kids no matter where they are.” I hesitate, searching for the right words before I add, “And she’d want you to be safe. That’s why she made arrangements for you to be with me.”
“Did she?” He glances at me with those too-old eyes. “Or did she just not have anyone else?”
The question cuts deep. “I think,” I breathe, in and out, “that your mom made the best choice she could for you. And it’s my job to make sure it was the right one.”
He doesn’t look convinced, but he nods anyway. “What about God? Is he real?”
Christ. We’ve gone from existential crisis straight to theology. I’m failing this pop quiz spectacularly.
“Some people believe he is.” I try to be honest. “What do you think?”
Eli shrugs. “I don’t know. Mom said he was.”
I definitely don’t want to go against what Rosie told him, so I say, “Well, your mom was so smart. So I’d listen to what she said.”
“But if he’s real, why did he take her away?”
Dammit. This kid is killing me, but again, I do my best. “That’s a really good question, Eli. One grownups struggle with. But your mom was an amazing person, so maybe he needed her help with something really important.”
“Oh.” He sounds disappointed, like he’d hoped I’d have more answers on something Rosie couldn’t give him anymore.
“But it’s good to ask questions,” I add quickly. “And it’s okay not to have all the answers. We can figure things out together, if you want.”
He nods, but I can tell I’ve let him down. Add it to the growing list.
“Time for sleep,” I say. “It’s been a long day.”
Eli climbs under the covers, and I resist the urge to tuck him in. He’s nine, not four, and he’s made it clear he doesn’t want me treating him like a little kid.
“Goodnight, Eli.” I stand in the doorway with my hand on the light switch.
“Night,” he murmurs, already rolling over to face the wall.
I turn off the light and close the door partway, leaving it cracked just enough that some hallway light filters in. Then I head to my own room, my body heavy.
I collapse onto my bed, not bothering to change out of my clothes. My phone buzzes with a text.
Zoe:How’s it going? Need backup?
Me:He’s tucked into bed.
Her response makes me smile despite everything:
Zoe:Congrats, you made it! Get some rest.
Rest. Right. Like I could possibly sleep knowing there’s a grieving child down the hall who just lost his mother and gained a father he doesn’t want or trust.
But my body has other ideas. The stress of the court hearing, the constant tension of trying to connect with Eli, the emotional whiplash of the past few days—it all catches up with me at once, and I’m drifting off before I can even set an alarm.
10
Newsbreak
ZOE
