Chapter 33
After dinner, Naomi sat at the kitchen table with her phone in one hand and a mug of blueberry tea in the other.
Grace slept in the bassinet near the window, her tiny chest rising and falling in that steady, peaceful rhythm that always made Naomi’s own breathing slow to match.
Mom had left for the evening, and Millie and Caleb were hanging out together somewhere. Good Boy lay at her feet.
A new woman had emailed about coming to the shelter in a few days. Naomi had responded to the messages and given further instructions.
Now she stared at Karen’s number on the screen, trying to work up the courage to make the call—because what she needed to do did require courage.
Finally, she dialed her number.
It rang twice before Karen answered. “This is Karen.”
“Karen, hi. It’s Naomi King.”
“Naomi. How are you? How’s Grace?”
“She’s good. Really good.” Naomi glanced at the bassinet. “Growing every day.”
“That’s wonderful.” Papers shuffled in the background. “What can I do for you?”
Naomi took a breath. “I’m thinking about bringing Grace to see Sissy. At the jail. Is that possible?”
The shuffling stopped. “You want to take the baby to visit her mother?”
“Yes.”
Karen was quiet another moment before letting out a slow breath. “Well, it’s possible. But it’s not simple.”
“I figured.”
“We’ll need approval from the jail first—they have their own policies about minors visiting. Then you’ll need to register Grace ahead of time and provide documentation proving the placement arrangement. Then there’s the question of whether it’ll be contact or non-contact.”
“How does that work, exactly?”
“Contact means Sissy could hold her. Non-contact means glass barrier and phone communication. Sissy sees her but can’t touch her.” Karen’s voice softened. “Given that Sissy’s in federal custody and the charges are serious, it’ll almost certainly be non-contact.”
Naomi’s chest tightened. The image of Sissy watching her daughter through a pane of glass, unable to hold her, made something ache deep in her ribs.
But it was still better than nothing.
“How long would it take to arrange a visit?” Naomi asked.
“I’m not exactly sure. Maybe a couple of days. Maybe a week. It depends. I’ll need to submit the request, then get approval from both the jail and the federal marshal’s office overseeing her case. Then we’ll need to schedule a time that works with their visitation hours.”
“Okay.”
“Naomi . . .” Karen’s tone shifted, gentler now. “Are you sure about this? Taking a newborn into a jail isn’t ideal. It’s loud. It’s stressful. And it might be harder on you than you think.”
Naomi looked at Grace again. At the tiny, perfect face that had never known her mother’s touch outside a hospital room.
“Sissy needs to see her,” Naomi said. “She needs to know Grace is okay. That she’s loved. That someone’s taking care of her. It’s one thing to be told she’s doing well, and something entirely different to see it for herself.”
Karen was silent a beat before she said, “All right then. I’ll start the paperwork tonight and call you when I have more information.”
“Thank you.”
“Of course. And Naomi? If you change your mind, that’s okay too.”
“I won’t.”
They said goodbye, and Naomi put her phone on the table.
She needed to tell Micah.
He’d want to know. He’d probably insist on driving her, on being there, on making sure she and Grace were safe.
Somewhere in the last few days that had become normal. Micah being there. Micah showing up. Micah being part of the decisions she made.
She wasn’t sure when that had happened.
But it had.
And she didn’t hate it.
A few minutes after her phone call ended, Caleb turned to her. “You got a minute?”
Naomi nodded up at her brother. “I do. But I thought you and Millie were hanging out.”
“We are. But there’s something I wanted to mention to you before I forgot.”
She turned toward him. “Go ahead.”
“I know we have a new woman talking about coming here to stay.” Caleb paused. “But with everything going on right now—Travis, Grace, Richard’s family—I wanted to make sure you were okay bringing someone new onto the property.”
Naomi looked at his careful, concerned expression. He was asking if she felt safe enough to do this right now.
And the truth was, she didn’t know.
But the shelter wasn’t just for her. It was for women who had nowhere else to go. Women like this one who’d just contacted them, someone who needed a place to breathe, to think, to figure out what came next.
She couldn’t close the doors just because things were complicated.
“We’ll make it work,” Naomi said. “If she needs us, we’re here.”
Caleb studied her before nodding. “Okay. I just wanted to double-check.”
He turned to leave but paused. “You doing all right? I know this has been a lot.”
Naomi looked down at her tea and nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just a little shaken.”
Caleb didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push. “Let me know if you need anything.”
“I will. Thanks.”
He left, and the room went quiet again.
Naomi pulled out her phone, found Micah’s contact number, and typed:
Setting up a jail visit with Sissy. Bringing Grace. Will let you know when it’s scheduled.
She hesitated, thumb hovering over the send button.
Then she added:
Thought you should know.
She hit Send before she could second-guess it.
The reply came almost immediately.
I’m coming with you.
Naomi stared at the screen, something warm and complicated stirring in her chest.
Knowing he’d be with her made everything feel better.
But that feeling in itself was dangerous, and she couldn’t let herself forget it.