"Look—" I begin, having found my voice again, desperately needing to stop this, to protect the kids, Christopher, and me. Hervis holds up his hand, stopping the words in my throat.
"I'm talking to Mr. Bennett now. I would appreciate no interruptions. I certainly will check the police report. Do you have any felony convictions?"
"Fuck no," Christopher all but yells, making both Chloe and me flinch.
"That's a bad word," Chloe whispers to Christopher.
Hervis's gaze slides to my sister. I want to tell Christopher to calm down because this is what Hervis does. He pushes buttons until you snap, then holds said snapping against you like a damn gun. But there’s no way I can pull him away and t
alk some sense into him with Hervis here.
"Are you employed, Mr. Bennett, or do you rely on Ms. Hensley for financial support?"
"Who do you think you are? Coming here, insulting my girlfriend, insulting me? Do you live under a rock? I'm a fucking shareholder in Bennett Enterprises. In case you don't know what I'm talking about, here's the cliff notes version. The company is worth billions. I suggest you spend more time brushing up on your obviously nonexistent knowledge on current affairs rather than harassing us."
I breathe in deeply, hoping that will calm my racing pulse. I want to defend Christopher and smack him in the head at the same time. He's making this worse.
Hervis blinks, scrutinizing Christopher.
"Have you ever taken anger management courses, Mr. Bennett?"
My body goes rigid with shock, as I realize what he's doing: searching for any angle to paint Christopher in a negative light. And Christopher is about to serve it to him on a silver platter. Raising one hand, he points at Hervis with his forefinger. His face is red, a vein pulsing at his temple.
"I have enough money and power to make sure you never work again in this country. Scratch that—on three continents, if I put in the effort. And believe me, I'm willing to put in the effort. Take your attitude and get out of here."
Now I'm downright angry at him. This is not a pissing contest, or him flexing his muscles. He can't threaten the social worker, or anyone for that matter.
"Christopher—" I start, but Hervis holds up a hand to silence me. Again. Sometime in the past few minutes, Chloe has shifted closer to me.
When Hervis looks straight at me, I can see on his face that the implosion is about to start.
"Ms. Hensley, I'm afraid the situation is much worse than I imagined. You have exposed the minors in your care for months to a man with clear anger issues. One of them has been put in a potentially life-threatening situation because of him. As such, I deem that you are not capable of being the guardian of the minors."
Wham! My eyes burn with unshed tears, even as the rest of my body feels as if I'm in an iceberg.
"Hervis," I say as calmly as possible. "This is all a big misunderstanding, and I—"
"That will be for a judge to decide. I will petition for an emergency trial as soon as possible, the end of this week at the latest."
"No!" I bellow. "Can't you at least wait until after Christmas?"
"These kids are her family. Heck, they’re my family too," Christopher says angrily. "You can't do this."
"As a matter of fact, I can, Mr. Bennett. I have been assigned to this case to keep a close eye and determine if the minors are not cared for properly, or if they are in danger. You are obviously a danger, and Ms. Hensley is incompetent. I knew this from the first time I visited their home, but I gave her the benefit of the doubt. I shouldn't have. Ms. Hensley, you will be informed of the trial date as soon as possible, but it will be no later than Friday. Until then, Mr. Bennett, I suggest you stay away from Ms. Hensley and her siblings."
Somewhere at the back of my mind, I register that Hervis's voice is softer, and he used the word “siblings” for the first time. Too little, too late. I'm holding even tighter to Chloe, who is now sobbing. She might not understand everything, but she understands enough.
With a curt nod, Hervis turns around and leaves. I become aware that everyone in the emergency waiting room has been watching us.
I lift Chloe in my arms and, almost robotically, place one foot in front of the other, reassuring her softly. She’s streaked my sweater with tears, and I'm afraid I’ll break down in front of her any minute now.
Christopher walks silently behind us until we reach my car, which I parked a block away from the hospital. Without even looking at him, I place Chloe in her car seat.
"That idiot won't get away with this," Christopher says the second I shut the door. "He's just some over-eager social worker. He—"
"This is not a pissing contest between you and Hervis, Christopher." Instantly, my blood begins to boil. Squaring my shoulders, I make myself taller, facing him.
"I know, but the stuff he was saying was unbelievable." He runs his hand through his hair, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.