**The Call That Changed Everything**
I stood by the window, staring into the dark outline of the garden. *Again, the streetlights are out. Its already ten, and Sophie still isnt home. If only she knew how worried I am. Shes only fourteen. Yet she manipulates her father like an adult, and he believes every word she says, giving her money whenever she asks.*
The gate slammed, and familiar footsteps echoed through the archway. *Sophie,* I thought, relieved, stepping back from the windowGod forbid she caught me watching, or thered be another shouting match.
“Mum, Im home!” Sophie called from the doorway. “Got anything to eat?”
“Arent you going to say hello first?” I tried to kiss her cheek, but she dodged me, darting into her room.
“Im starving! I dont have time for this!”
“And where exactly are you rushing off to at this hour? Its already ten,” I said, bracing myself for another argument.
“Youre such a nag,” she muttered just loud enough for me to hear. “Im practically fifteenIm not a child!” She yanked clothes from her wardrobe, tossing them aside in search of the right dress.
I watched helplessly. *What do I say? How do I stop her?*
“Why are you just standing there like a statue?” she shrieked. “Im going clubbing with the girls. Its Halloweeneveryones celebrating! Am I supposed to miss out?”
She finally pulled out the dressshort, backless, trimmed with scarlet lace.
“Sophie, where did you get *that*? Its vulgar. Do you know what kind of people wear things like that?”
“I dont care! I bought it on sale for Halloween. Dad gave me the money.” She grabbed a pair of towering red stilettos. “These are perfect, right?” She strutted past me, swinging her hips. “Toms going to lose his mind when he sees me.”
“Sophie, youre not going,” I said quietly.
“What?!” She spun around.
“You heard me. Youre *not* going.”
“Who died and made you queen?” she snapped. “Look at you! Youre a failure! Dad left you, and no ones even looked at you since!” She savored the word. “*Failure*.”
Something inside me snapped. Before I knew it, my hand flew outa sharp crack echoed through the room. I turned on my heel and walked out, slamming the door behind me as she howled in outrage.
“You *bitch*! I *hate* you! Youll regret this!”
I locked myself in the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face. The reflection in the mirror smirked bitterly back at me. *A failure? Ive got a good job, a lovely flat, and Im not exactly hard on the eyes. But with Sophie its like we speak different languages. Ever since she turned twelve, shes been a strangerdefiant, smoking behind my back, twisting everything I say. The vicar called it pride. Maybe hes right. I went to a therapist, got advice, but none of it helped. Every day, we drift further apart. To her, Im not her motherIm the enemy. If only she knew how much I love her, how my heart aches for her. And now Ive hit her. What have I done?*
I opened the door, listening. She was on the phone, excited. *Toms going to be there I promised him*
*Tom. I remember him in primary schoola scrawny little thing with big eyes. Now hes all grown up, practically a prince. No wonder every girl fancies him. And Sophies no exception. Then again, who wouldnt adore her? Shes beautiful.*
With a sigh, I locked the front door and hid the key. *Shes not going out tonight. No way. Tom will survive. And this Halloween nonsenseits all devilry anyway.*
I tiptoed toward my room, but Sophie heard me, storming into the hall.
“Ill *never* forgive you for this! Ill *sue* you!” Her face twisted with hate. “Ill jump out the window if I have tobut I *am* leaving tonight! You dont understand love! Hes *waiting* for me!”
“If Tom really loves you, hell wait however long it takes,” I said softly, searching her eyes. *My poor girl how do I fix this?*
“What are you staring at, you old cow?” she spat. “Ill call Dadhell take me himself!”
“Go ahead,” I said. “But youre not leaving this house tonight. The doors locked.”
Sophie went eerily still. “Fine. Youll regret this.”
I listened as she kicked off her shoes and started another hushed call. Her laugh sent a chill down my spine.
*No need to go anywhere. Halloweens come to us.* I wiped my tears, swallowed a sleeping pill. *Maybe tomorrow will be better.*
—
The alarm blared. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I washed up and started breakfast. Sophie and I never stayed angry for longusually, morning coffee smoothed things over.
Not this time.
She marched past the table, stone-faced, dressed and clutching her birth certificate.
All day, I pushed thoughts of our fight aside, but leaving work, I couldnt think of anything else. *How is Sophie? Has she forgiven me? What do I even say? Should I apologize for slapping her? If only she knew how much her words hurt. My last ECG wasnt great but when I get home, well have tea and biscuits, make up. Just hold on a little longer.*
Relief washed over me as I stopped by the bakery for her favorite éclairs.
“Sophie! I got your treats! Truce?” I called, stepping inside.
Silence.
Strange.
The kitchen was empty. The sandwiches Id made that morning sat untouched.
*A bad peace is better than a good quarrel,* I thought, reaching for my phone.
Before I could dial, it rangan unknown number.
“Mrs. Emily Carter?” A womans voice, cold and metallic. “This is Valerie Atkins, Social Services. Your daughter has filed a report alleging abuse. Weve removed her from school for her safety.”
“What?!” My throat closed. “I dontwhat did you say?”
“Your daughter is now in temporary care pending a court hearing regarding the termination of your parental rights.”
“Court?! *Why*?!”
“Last night, you struck her. Or have you forgotten?”
“You *dare*”
“We *do* dare. Parents like you *violate* childrens rights. And we *protect* them.”
“Where *is* she?!”
The line went dead.
—
Valerie Atkins arrived at the care home that evening, knocking on Sophies door.
“Brought you something,” she said, placing a Snickers bar on the table. “Compensation for emotional distress. Dont worryshell pay for what she did.”
“Whatll happen to her?” Sophie muted the TV.
“Shell lose custody.”
Sophie stiffened. “Waittheres going to be a *trial*?”
“Of course. *You* filed the complaint.”
“Well yeah! She *hit* me! And she called my dress trashy! And shes a *failure*thats why Dad left!”
Valerie said nothing. She, too, was aloneher husband had left her for a woman who could give him children.
—
Sophie had been there a week when she saw me from the cartear-streaked, aged overnight. Pity flickered, then died.
The neighborsLinda and her husbandhad written statements. *”Weve heard screaming. Seen her drunk.”* Sophie knew I only staggered from exhaustion, but she stayed silent.
Tom stopped answering her calls. *”If youd betray your mum, youd betray anyone.”*
They didnt take her to court. Valerie submitted a note about her “distress.”
I arrived with my solicitor. The moment I saw the neighbors, my legs buckled. My heart seized.
*”Look at herdrunk in court!”* Lindas husband sneered.
Two hours later, it was over. The judges gavel fell. *”Emily Carter, you are hereby stripped of parental rights. Child support will be”*
My solicitor vowed to appeal.
Valerie watched, triumphant, as I collapsed. The ambulance was too late.
—
That evening, Valerie visited Sophie with persimmons.
“We won. Youll be moving to a childrens home.”
Sophie froze. “*What?*”
“Youll make new friendsmaybe even find love. And one day, a new family.”
“No! I *want my mum*!”
Valerie scoffed.
