“We talked about an institution,” Lucianne reminded her.
Susan knew the Ansons liked her because she had never downplayed the significance of Sharicka’s illness the way most providers did, and she had never questioned their integrity or intentions toward their daughter. Suddenly, Susan felt like a traitor. “I’ve looked into that. There’s not a single institution in the country that will take a child under the age of thirteen.” She tried to dodge Lucianne’s stare. “There’s no possible way we can keep her here for a year, let alone nine years. At some point, we have to release Sharicka to a family. She’s your daughter, first and foremost, but we would all understand if you decided yours was not the right home for her.”
Lucianne followed Susan’s gaze, refusing escape. “You can’t possibly be talking discharge.”
“Not in the next week or two,” Susan said quickly. “But it’s time to start thinking about it.” She felt confident the Ansons had already discussed the possibilities and had come to at least a superficial decision.
“What happens if we refuse to take her?”
Elliot replied before Susan could. “She becomes someone else’s problem.”
“Foster care,” Shaden said. “And, eventually, adoption.”
Lucianne’s jaw drooped until it all but touched her chest. She snorted suddenly, bringing her lips back together. “Downplaying all of her issues, no doubt. They’ll foist her on some unwitting, well-meaning family and tell them not to worry. Love will conquer all.”
Susan could not deny it. Sharicka knew how to win hearts, how to present her best side, how to manipulate even trained psychiatric nurses. Most social workers would be putty in her hands.
“She’s best off with us,” Elliot Anson said firmly. “We loved her, unconditionally, before we knew what she would become. We love her even now. We’ll always love her.” His eyes blurred as he clearly fought back tears. “I doubt anyone else will have the time to form a bond that strong before she does something hateful to them. Bouncing around foster and adoptive houses can’t possibly be in Sharicka’s best interests, let alone anyone else’s.” He put his arm around Lucianne, who also looked on the verge of tears. “She’s trying, Luci. We have to reward that effort.”
“How?” the mother asked, with clear suspicion.
Susan broached the subject cautiously. “We were thinking maybe . . . a home visit?”
“You mean an overnight?” The mother still did not sound convinced, but she also did not refuse outright.
Elliot was nodding. Clearly, he would prove easier to convince. “There’s a limit to the damage a four-year-old has the strength to do, especially under the watchful eye of two wary parents in a childproofed home.”
His wife turned on him. “She was under the watchful eye of two parents in a childproofed home when she almost drowned Misty.”
“That was before we knew what she was capable of. They were outside alone, without us. We won’t let that happen again.”
Susan allowed the discussion to evolve, not daring to add anything to it. For the first time, she found herself secretly siding with Sharicka, hoping the Ansons decided to take her home, to give her this one small chance. However, Susan also realized they knew Sharicka better than she ever could. She tried to imagine something demonic taking over her kind and gentle father. If he had murdered her mother, could she have ever taken him back into her home? She supposed she could if the demons were vanquished. But are Sharicka’s demons vanquished? How could we ever know for sure?
“Can we stop her?” The mother sighed deeply. “I love my daughters, Dr. Calvin. Both of them.”
Shaden held inordinately still, but Susan nodded broadly. “It’s hard to do what’s best for both of them.”
“I’ll stay right with her,” the father promised. “She can’t do anything bad with me glued to her side.”
Susan could see Lucianne wavering. It soon became clear, however, that as Susan studied her, she studied Susan. Finally, she spoke. “Dr. Calvin, I trust you. What do you think we should do?”
It was exactly the question Susan did not want to field. She had been trained to avoid it, to firmly state that such a decision belonged solely to the family. “I . . . understand your hesitation. It’s completely logical and makes perfect sense.” Susan had little choice but to play both sides. “On the other hand, that you’ve decided not to terminate your parental rights to Sharicka means you still have hope for her. If we believe she’s trying, and I know I do, then home visits are the necessary first step toward working her back into the family. We could wait another week. Maybe even two.” Susan raised a hand, palm up, and finally deliberately braved Lucianne’s eyes, now blue-gray pools of water. “Much longer than that, we’re going to get serious resistance from your insurance company.”
Apparently, the parents’ honest angst was not lost on Shaden. His tone turned as gentle as Susan had ever heard it, especially when forced to defend Sharicka. “Doctors Anson, in my years of experience, I find that insurance companies are more open to time extensions if they see you trying. If you bring Sharicka for a home visit, they’ll be more likely to bargain. If it goes well, that’s wonderful. If not, it will give us ammunition to use against them if they try to deny your coverage.”
The mother bobbed her head ever so slightly. “So you think we should take her home . . . today?”
Susan did not feel wholly comfortable with that. “I’m saying I think either decision is reasonable and defensible.”
The mother made an irritated noise, still trying to pin down Susan. “If she were your daughter, would you take her home? Yes or no?”
Cornered at last, Susan could do nothing but speak the truth. “I like to think I would, Dr. Anson. But, as I’ve said several different ways, I don’t think a right decision and a wrong one exist here. There are only intuition and faith.”
Nothing remained to be said, and the father took over the conversation. “Give us a few minutes to talk about it, and we’ll give you our answer before we leave.”
Relieved, Susan rose. She preferred to let the parents make their own decision. Following her cue, Shaden also stood up, and the two left the room. Susan knocked on the locked door. Saranne’s face appeared in the window; then the door whisked open, and the two came through it. Saranne locked it behind them.
Sharicka was there, too. She jerked at Susan’s hem. “What’d they say? Am I going home?”
Susan took Sharicka’s sticky hand and led her back to her room. Once there, she released the girl, who hopped up onto her bed. Susan closed the door behind them. “Sharicka, home visits aren’t easy things to arrange. They have to work into everyone’s schedules: both parents’, yours, your brother’s, your sister’s, the nurses’, mine. Everyone’s.”
Sharicka tried to guess. “So, I’m not going home?” The look of sheer disappointment on her face twisted at Susan’s heartstrings.
Susan clung to professionalism to harden her stance. “I don’t know yet, Sharicka. We’ll know soon, but I want you to understand something.”
Sharicka did not allow Susan to finish. “I know. I know. I have to be good.”
“You have to be on your best behavior, or there might not be another home visit for a very long time. You have to take all your medicine and listen to what your parents tell you.”
The months that had passed without a step beyond the playground or the unit had to show Sharicka the seriousness of Susan’s words. “I will. I promise. I’m going to be good from now on. You’ll see.”
Susan did not want to build up false hopes. “No one is good all the time, Sharicka. We don’t expect perfection.” Susan did not want the child abandoning all principles after a minor slipup. “But you must treat others with kindness and respect. A bad word, a stolen cookie — those things can be overlooked, as long as you apologize and are truly sorry. But you cannot, under any circumstances, hurt a human being or an animal, Sharicka. Those are not mistakes; those are deliberately evil actions.”