Chapter 8 - The Shadow of Greg
The heavy steel door clicked shut behind Daniel as he walked across the linoleum floor, completely ignoring Director Hayes and Mrs. Gable as if they were ghosts.
He didn't stop until he reached my chair. He dropped down onto one knee, bringing his eyes level with mine, his calloused hand reaching out to gently brush a stray tear from my cheek.
“Are you alright, Emma?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly with an emotion he was desperately trying to keep under control.
I threw my arms around his neck, burying my face in his shoulder, sobbing so hard my whole body shook. “They said you were going to jail. They said you stole me.”
Daniel wrapped his arms around me, holding me so tight I couldn't feel the cold metal room anymore. “I told you I wasn't going anywhere, Emma. Nobody is ever taking you away from my family again. Do you hear me?”
Over my shoulder, I heard Director Hayes clear her throat nervously, stepping forward. “Mr. Anderson... legally, the state still retains temporary custody until the background verification and the emergency shelter hearing scheduled for tomorrow morning—”
Daniel slowly stood up, keeping one hand protectively on my shoulder. He turned around, and the look in his gray eyes made the director take an involuntary step backward.
“Your emergency warrant was vacated ten minutes ago by the federal district judge on grounds of unlawful search and procedural corruption,” Daniel said, his voice dropping into a razor-sharp, lethal calm. “Furthermore, my investigators just located the man who abandoned Emma three months ago—a man named Gregory Miller, who was operating a shell adoption and foster-skimming scam funded by public subsidies.”
Mrs. Gable gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. “Greg? He’s part of the trafficking network?”
“He’s currently in federal custody being interrogated by the FBI,” Daniel replied coldly. “And every single bureaucrat who signed off on his intake paperwork without verifying placement audits is currently under active federal investigation. If you attempt to detain Emma for one more second under your so-called ‘protective custody,’ I will personally ensure your department is dismantled by Congress before the end of the week.”
The silence in the room was absolute.
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Director Hayes swallowed hard, her professional armor completely stripped away. She looked at the tablet, then at Daniel, and finally nodded slowly. “Sign the release forms at the front desk. She’s... she’s free to go.”
Daniel didn't waste another breath. He scooped me up into his arms, carrying me out of the cold, buzzing interrogation room and straight toward the warm morning light waiting outside the facility doors.
