Last Breath. Karin Slaughter

circle of surprise.

      “I’m fifteen, but I’ll be sixteen next month, and I looked it up at the library. I know that’s the legal age in Georgia to be emancipated.”

      “If you looked it up, then you know the criteria.”

      “I have to be married or in active service in the military or I have to petition the court to emancipate me.”

      She really had done her homework. “You live with your father?”

      “My grandparents. My father’s dead. He overdosed in prison.”

      Charlie nodded, because she knew that this happened more often than anyone wanted to admit. “Is there anyone else in your family who could take you in?”

      “No, it’s just the three of us left. I love Paw and Meemaw, but they’re…” Flora shrugged, but the shrug was the important part.

      Charlie asked, “Are they hurting you?”

      “No, ma’am, never. They’re…” Again, she shrugged. “I don’t think they like me very much.”

      “A lot of kids your age feel that way.”

      “They’re not strong people,” she said. “Strong in character.”

      Charlie leaned back against the counter. She had left child molester off her list of possible teenage-girl problems. “Flora, emancipation is a very serious request. If you want me to help you, you’re going to have to give me details.”

      “Have you ever helped a kid with this before?”

      Charlie shook her head. “No, so if you don’t feel comfortable—”

      “It’s okay,” Flora said. “I was just curious. I don’t think it happens a lot.”

      “That’s for a reason,” Charlie said. “Generally, the court is very hesitant to remove a child from a home. You have to provide justification, and if you really looked into the law, there are two other important criteria: you have to prove that you can support yourself without your parents, and you have to do this without receiving any aid from the state.”

      “I work shifts at the diner. And my friend Nancy’s parents said I could live with them until I’m out of school, and then when I go to college, I can live at the dorms.”

      The more Flora spoke, the more determined she sounded.

      Charlie asked, “Have you ever been in trouble?”

      “No, ma’am. Not ever. I’ve got a 4.0 GPA. I’m already taking AP classes. I’m on the Principal’s Scholars list and I volunteer in the reading lab.” Her face turned red from the bragging. She put her hands to her cheeks. “I’m sorry, but you asked.”

      “Don’t be sorry. That’s a lot to be proud of,” Charlie told her. “Listen, if your friend’s parents are willing to take you in, it might be that you can work out an arrangement without the courts getting involved.”

      “I’ve got money,” Flora said. “I can pay you.”

      Charlie wasn’t going to take money from a troubled fifteen-year-old. “It’s not about money. It’s about what’s easier for you. And for your grandparents. If this goes to court—”

      “I don’t mean that kind of money,” Flora said. “After my mama was killed in the car accident, the trucking company had to set up a trust to take care of me.”

      Charlie waited, but the girl didn’t volunteer details. “What kind of trust?”

      “It pays out for things like where I live and medical stuff, but most of it’s being held until I’m ready to go to college, only I’m scared it’s not going to be there when I’m ready to go.”

      “Why is that?”

      “Because Paw and Meemaw are spending it.”

      “If the trust says they can only use the money for—”

      “They bought a house, but then they sold it for the cash and rented an apartment, then they took me to the doctor and he said I was sick, but I wasn’t, and then they got a new car.”

      Charlie crossed her arms. “That’s stealing from you and defrauding the trust. Those are both very serious crimes.”

      “I know. I looked that up, too.” Flora stared down at her hands again. “I don’t want to get Meemaw and Paw into trouble. I can’t send them to jail. Not like that. I just want to be able to…” She sniffed. Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I just want to go to college. I want to be able to have choices. That’s what my mama would’ve wanted. She never wanted me to get stuck where I didn’t want to be.”

      Charlie let out a steady stream of breath. Her own mother had been the same way, always pushing Charlie to study harder, to do more, to use the gifts of her intelligence and drive to be useful in the world.

      “She was good to me,” Flora said. “My mama. She was kind, and she looked after me, and she was always in my corner, no matter what.” Flora wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry. I still miss her is all. I feel like I need to honor her memory, to make sure some good comes out of what happened to her.”

      It was Charlie’s turn to look down at her hands. She felt a lump in her throat. She had thought more about her mother in the last five minutes than she had in the last month. The longing for her, the desire for one more chance to tell her mother what was on her mind, was an ache that would never go away.

      Charlie had to clear her throat before she could ask Flora, “How long have you been thinking about emancipation?”

      “Since after Paw’s surgery,” the girl said. “He hurt his leg three years ago falling off a ladder. He couldn’t go back to work.”

      “He’s addicted to pain medication?” Charlie guessed, because the Pikeville jail was filled with such men. “Be honest with me. Is it pills?”

      The girl nodded with visible reluctance. “Don’t tell anybody, please. I don’t want him to go to prison.”

      “That won’t happen because of me,” Charlie promised. “But you need to understand that putting this in motion is a public thing. You won’t be a protected minor anymore. Court records are out there for everybody to see. And that’s not even the hard part. In order to prepare a petition supporting your request for emancipation, I’ll have to talk to your grandparents, your teachers, your employer, your friend’s parents. Everybody will know what you’re doing.”

      “I’m not trying to do it on the sly. You can talk to anybody you want to, today even, right now. I don’t want anybody to get into trouble, like go-to-jail trouble. I just want to get out so I can go to a good college and do something with my life.”

      Her earnestness was heartbreaking. “Your grandparents might put up a fight. You’ll have to be blunt about why you want to leave. You don’t have to mention the pills, but you’ll have to tell a judge that you feel they’re not good guardians for you, that you would rather be on your own than have to live with them.” Charlie tried to paint a picture for her. “You’ll all be in court at the same time. You’ll have to tell a judge, in the open, in front of anybody who wants to hear, that you are unable to reconcile with them and you don’t want them in your life in any capacity.”

      Flora seemed to equivocate. “What if they don’t fight it? What if they agree with it?”

      “That would certainly make things easier, but—”

      “Paw has other problems.”

      Charlie’s mind went straight back to the abuse issue. “Is he hurting you?”

      Flora did not answer, but she didn’t look away, either.

      “Flora, if he’s hurting you—”

      The door opened. They both